


Charcoal

by this_wayward_life



Series: Conundrum [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Dementia, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gay Bucky Barnes, Gay Sam Wilson, Hurt/Comfort, I Know Nothing About the Army, Illegal Army Enlistment, Infidelity, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Moving In Together, Musician Steve Rogers, Oral Sex, POV Bucky Barnes, Pets, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Russian Bucky Barnes, Shitty Fathers, Smut, Top Steve Rogers, not between Steve and Bucky though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22359256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_wayward_life/pseuds/this_wayward_life
Summary: After a year filled with romance, death and far too much drama to be normal, Bucky was looking forward to starting college. He'd moved in with his best friend, had an incredible boyfriend, and had gotten into the course of his dreams. He should've known things wouldn't be so simple.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter/Daniel Sousa, Riley/Sam Wilson, T'Challa/Sam Wilson (Marvel)
Series: Conundrum [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1395079
Comments: 19
Kudos: 82





	1. A Peaceful Beginning That Is Sure Not To Last

**Author's Note:**

> YES, I've finally posted this! This is the first actual series I've done, and I'm pretty excited! The chapter schedule will be non-existent because I am a complete disaster and cannot stick to a schedule to save my life. Also, I had no idea what to call this, so it's named after Bucky's favourite art medium. Sue me.

"And you're _sure_ you've packed everything you need?"

Bucky rolled his eyes as he zipped up the duffel containing his clothes. Aunt Edith paced his room, running her hands through her auburn hair. It was streaked through with grey now, grey that definitely hadn't been there a year ago. Alice, who was moving into Bucky's room, was sitting on her newly-made bed, her hair in pigtails and banging her feet against the bedframe to get her sneakers to light up. She was watching Bucky curiously, hugging the teddy bear he'd given her for her fifth birthday to her chest.

"Yeah, Eddie, I'm sure," Bucky sighed. "There's literally nothing left here. I'm taking all my stuff with me."

Aunt Edith stopped her pacing to cup Bucky's face in her hands. She was a good six inches shorter than him, but her eyes were stern from behind her glasses. 

"Now Yasha, don't you sass me like that, _synochik_ ," she reprimanded. "It's not every day that you move out."

"It's barely moving out," Bucky protested weakly. "I'll be a couple of blocks away in a dorm room. You can visit whenever you want, and I'll probably come home once a week anyway."

Aunt Edith studied him for another few seconds, before she huffed and patted his cheek. "You said some friends were coming over to help?"

"Nat has a driver's license and a car," Bucky reminded her. "Two things that neither of us has."

" _Bozhe moi_ , who has a car in New York?" Edith muttered, but she kissed his cheek. "I'm going to box up the baklava. Can you go and say goodbye to your mother? She'll want to see you before you leave."

Bucky felt his heart sink but forced a smile onto his face, and Edith smiled, quickly leaving the room. Bucky sighed quietly, then turned back to his cousin. Alice was watching him curiously, still kicking her legs.

"Hey there, _solnyshka_ ," he said quietly, kneeling in front of her. "I need you to stay here, alright? I'll be right back."

Alice nodded solemnly, her blue eyes wide. Bucky ruffled her hair gently, which made her giggle and bat his hand away.

The door to Winnifred Barnes' room was closed, as usual. Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, then knocked quietly on the door. There wasn't an answer, but that was to be expected, so he opened the door just enough to slip through before closing it again. The room was dark, the blinds drawn and the lights off. All the pictures were turned face-down. There were shot glasses and empty bottles on the bedside table. The bed was unmade. The air smelled of vodka and cigarettes.

Winnifred was sitting in the middle of the bed, her legs crossed and a glass held loosely in her hands. She was wearing a silky nightgown, and her hair - more grey than brown these days - hung limply around her face. Her face was sallow, her once youthful features twisted and wrinkled, her eyes blank. She didn't seem to notice when Bucky came in. 

"Ma?" Bucky said quietly. Winnifred turned her head slowly, not quite losing that mist that covered her eyes.

"James," she said. Her voice was raspy and ragged, like she'd been swallowing gravel. "You're back so soon? You only just left."

Bucky sat down on the bed and gently took the glass out of his mother's hands. She was losing time again - he hadn't seen her since he brought her dinner two nights before. "Ma, I'm here to say goodbye."

"Why? Where are you going?" Winnifred asked. Her face was still lax, her voice devoid of emotion. It would have been scary, to see his mother reduced to a near-comatose state, if Bucky hadn't been used to it. She hadn't been the same since Becca died six months before.

"I'm moving out, Ma," Bucky said softly. "Remember? I'm renting that dorm room with Sam?"

"Sam," Winnifred murmured. "Yes."

"I'll come to visit," Bucky promised. "And Aunt Edith and Alice will keep you company."

"Yes," Winnifred repeated, the glaze on her eyes thickening. Bucky sighed gently, and kissed her cheek. She was going back into her own head - there would be no use talking to her. 

"Bye, Ma," Bucky murmured. He stood up and gathered all the glasses and bottles, and closed the door softly behind him. 

When Bucky got back to his room, Natasha was sitting on his bed, Alice in her lap. Alice was babbling about her new friend at school (a story that Bucky had heard at least three times since Olaf joined her class), and Natasha had taken the hair ties out of Alice's hair and was braiding, letting out exclamations when appropriate.

"I see you've made yourself comfortable," Bucky drawled, leaning against the doorframe. Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"You weren't here. Alice wanted me to do her hair. How could I have said no?" She finished up the braids and tugged on the ends gently, causing Alice to giggle and slide off her lap. 

"Hey Ally, your mum's in the kitchen with some of her homemade baklavas. I think if you ask real nicely, she'll give you some," Bucky said in a conspiring tone. Alice's eyes went huge, and she ran out of the room, tiny feet pounding down the corridor. 

"How's your ma?" Natasha asked quietly. Bucky sat down next to her and leaned his head on her shoulder, and she threaded her fingers through his hair.

"She's getting worse," he admitted. 

"What does 'worse' look like?"

"She barely speaks. She's drinking a lot and smoking a lot. I don't remember the last time she left her room, but she must be because there's never a shortage of alcohol. She keeps zoning out, and she didn't hear me come in until I spoke."

"James," Natasha said gently. "Are you sure she's stable enough to stay here? Shouldn't she be in a home?"

"We can't afford it," Bucky said wearily. "We can barely afford to buy Alice new clothes. The only reason I'm going to college is that I got a scholarship."

Natasha sighed and wrapped her other arm around him. After a couple of minutes, she squeezed his shoulders. "Come on, let's get this stuff in the car. I promised Sam I'd get you there by three, and it's already quarter to."

Bucky huffed out a laugh, and kissed her cheek. "Why isn't Sam helping, again?"

"Hot date on Skype," Natasha replied, grinning. "T'Challa's barely been gone two months and he's already moping. I don't envy you."

"Hey, he had to deal with my pining ass the whole year," Bucky reminded her. "I think this is just payback."

"Yes, well, the subject of your pining has invited himself, me and Clint over to your place tonight for a 'congrats on your first place' party."

"And why are you telling me this?"

"So that you can warn Sam and put everything away before we get there. Steve wants it to be a surprise, but I figured I'd warn you anyway."

Bucky rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop the fond smile. "He's an idiot."

Nat sighed. "I never thought watching you repress your feelings would be better than watching you be happy in love. It's disgusting."

"Oh shut up," Bucky groused, pushing her. "You're the one with the longest relationship here. You're moving in with your boyfriend, for Christ's sake. How am I the gross one?"

"Because Clint knows that if he's mushy with me in public, I won't fuck him for two weeks," Natasha replied casually, standing up. "Come on."

\------

Natasha had helped Bucky take his stuff from the car to the door of his dorm, before kissing his cheek and flouncing off, presumably to meet up with Clint and Steve. Bucky unlocked the door as quietly as he could and moved his bags to the entrance, closing the door softly behind him. He and Sam might have splurged a bit when it came to housing, but Bucky couldn't find it in himself to care. The front room was about fifteen feet wide, with a couch, armchair, coffee table, television, and a small kitchen area. There were two bedrooms with built-in wardrobes, each just large enough to fit a double bed, a desk, and a bookshelf each, and the bathroom had a working shower. It was basically all they needed. Sam and Bucky had moved the furniture and beds in the day before, so it was pretty much all set up already.

Sam was sitting on the couch, his laptop in front of him open to Skype. T'Challa's face was visible on the screen, and his accent-rich voice was slightly tinny from the bad-quality speakers. 

"Look who finally decided to show up," Sam crowed as Bucky put the baklava on the kitchen bench, and T'Challa waved.

"Hello, James."

"Hey T'Challa," Bucky said, completely ignoring his best friend. "How's Wakanda?"

"It's beautiful, thank you," T'Challa said graciously. The man did everything graciously. "Shuri and I are currently staying with our father's old friend, W'Kabi. Our mother Ramonda, when she is not running the country, takes us out to the city. It's quite pleasant."

"I'm glad to hear it," Bucky said, then turned to Sam. "Alright dipshit, which bedroom did you take?"

"The left one, asshole," Sam responded. "Now leave, I wanna talk to my man in private."

"You've been talking to him in private for over an hour," Bucky groused. "Bye, T'Challa."

"Goodbye, James," T'Challa said, but he was grinning. 

Bucky lugged his things into his room, ignoring the very sappy conversation going on behind his back, and started unpacking. Thankfully, he didn't have much when it came to belongings; just a few gifts from friends, a duffel bag's worth of clothes, a couple of scented candles, and books (not counting his textbooks). It didn't take long to get completely set up, so Bucky flopped on the bed with his phone, going through his messages. There was one from Aunt Edith, asking him to text her when he's settled in, one from Tony, talking about the prosthetics he's developing, and one from Steve.

After the shit show that was the End Of Year Formal and the frankly incredible aftermath of it (Bucky blushed every time he thought about it) back in May, three months before, he and Steve had been basically joined at the hip. Just after graduation, Joseph Rogers had left for London, leaving a large sum of money and the apartment to Steve, which was a bit of a complicated affair. For a month or so after that Steve had been bouncing between elation at being free from his father, and resentment for his father abandoning him as soon as his schooling finished. Bucky, for the most part, had distracted him pretty well (fucking _incredible_ sex), and on the fourth of July, when Steve turned nineteen, he'd enlisted the help of Natasha to throw a party, and they'd rented out the diner again. The Howling Commandoes put on a show, which was pretty funny to watch, considering they were pretty much all drunk except for Gabe, who was going through another one of his 'no alcohol' phases. In all honesty, Bucky had spent most of their two-month break at Steve's apartment, mainly because his ma's mental health was deteriorating so fast. Steve didn't seem to mind - in fact, he loved it. Mostly because Bucky knew how to cook more than just spaghetti.

Quickly replying to both Tony and Edith, Bucky pressed _call_ next to Steve's contact. 

"Buck!" Steve sounded cheerful, as always. "How's the new place?"

"Not bad, from the hour I've spent here," Bucky replied, rolling onto his back. "A little spider told me about a certain surprise party that was happening tonight. Care to explain, Rogers?"

Bucky heard Steve groan through the receiver, and stifled a laugh. "I _told_ her to keep it a secret! Why does she never listen to me?"

"She never listens to anyone, babe," Bucky reminded him. "You're hardly special."

"Gee, thanks, Bucky," Steve drawled. "I love you too, y'know."

"You're a drama queen." Steve hummed, and there was a shuffling sound on his end. 

"Y'know, it'll be kinda weird, not having you around all the time." Bucky smiled dopily at the ceiling.

"I know. You'll have to cook for yourself now."

"I'll have you know that I _like_ spaghetti."

"But do you like it enough to have it every day for the rest of the time you live alone?"

"I won't _just_ be eating spaghetti, Buck," Steve said amusedly.

"You're right, I forgot," Bucky said sarcastically. "You can cook semi-decent grilled cheese, too."

Bucky waited for Steve's laughter to die down, before saying, "I'll miss it too, y'know."

Steve huffed out a laugh. "I'd ask you to move in with me, but that's way too soon."

"Maybe wait a year or two there, punk," Bucky teased. "But you can come over any time, you know that?"

"Course I do. But you'll probably be regretting telling me that, because I'll be around basically every time I'm in the area. Which will be a lot, considering I have classes for four days each week. And I'll miss you the other three days, so I'll probably be around then too."

"Believe me, I have no problem with that. Sam might, but who cares about him."

"Hey, Sam likes me!"

"Not when you're balls-deep in my ass he doesn't."

Steve laughed again. "Then I guess you'll have to come over here sometime."

"I guess I will," Bucky purred, and grinned when he heard Steve gulp. 

"Anyway, since Nat's already ruined the surprise, we'll be over at about six?" Steve said, hastily changing the subject. He was probably blushing - something he almost always did when Bucky was even the slightest bit flirty with him, and Bucky loved it. "I'll bring pizza."

"That sounds great, babe," Bucky said, his voice fond. "I promise I'll come to your place at least once before classes start."

"Will you cook?" Steve asked hopefully, and Bucky snorted. 

"Promise me a blowjob and shower sex, and you have yourself a deal."

Steve made a weirdly high-pitched sound, before he cleared his throat. "Yeah. Yeah, we can do that," he croaked, his voice an octave lower than normal. Bucky closed his eyes - Steve knew exactly what that voice did to him, and it was a bit hard keeping himself in check. He wouldn't jerk off when Sam was literally right outside the door.

"And they have to be mutually exclusive."

"Honey, that won't be a problem. I have a hard time keeping my hands off you whenever you're near me," Steve murmured, his voice so low it was almost a growl. Bucky shivered in delight. 

"I'm holding you to that, Rogers," Bucky purred. "Don't be late tonight."

"You're an ass," Steve groaned, and Bucky heard a soft thump. 

"Six, Stevie," Bucky reminded him, grinning. "And if you're good, I might even let you stay the night."

Steve groaned again, and Bucky hung up, cackling with glee. The fact that he could rile Steve up so easily was a constant source of entertainment.

When Bucky left his room, Sam was in the kitchen with a glass of water, his eyes far away and soft. Bucky internally rolled his eyes - Sam always got like this when he and T'Challa talked.

"So T'Challa's good?"

Sam turned to him and grinned, his eyes lighting up. Bucky had the sinking suspicion he looked the same whenever Steve was mentioned. "Yeah. He actually wants me to come over for Christmas. Apparently it's a lot warmer in Wakanda."

"Sam, that's a trip halfway around the world, and you're not exactly swimming in money," Bucky reminded him, reaching past to grab a glass from the cupboard. Thank god Clint's parents had given them their old crockery sets, otherwise, they'd probably have paper cups.

"In case you've forgotten, T'Challa's mother is the queen of a small country," Sam said primly, making Bucky grin. "And Ramonda already loves me."

"I'm sure she does, sweetheart," Bucky said, patting Sam's cheek on his way to the fridge. Sam batted his hand away, mock-scowling. "Also, Steve, Clint and Nat are coming over at six for dinner. They're bringing pizza."

"So I'll be surrounded by couples the whole night?" Sam whined. "That's not fair."

"Hey, if you want, we can Facetime T'Challa so you don't feel so left out," Bucky teased, pouring himself a glass of water. "And this'll be the last time we see Nat and Clint before they go to basic, remember?"

"Ah yes, their Super Secret Spy program. When are they leaving, again?"

"I think next Wednesday," Bucky mused. "We should ask them when they get here."

Sam hummed, and leaned over to nudge Bucky's shoulder. "Well, I'm going to finish setting up. Call me out when the others arrive."

\------

As promised, at exactly five-to-six, there was a knock at the door. Bucky was slightly surprised Natasha even bothered knocking, because even though she didn't have a key he was almost positive she could get in without one. The answer to his question turned out to be because she was holding several boxes of pizza in one hand, and Clint's ear in the other. Without even bothering to explain, she hauled her boyfriend into the apartment, Clint sputtering the whole time. Bucky watched them go silently, before turning to Steve.

"Don't ask me, I found them like that," Steve said defensively, holding up his hands. Bucky rolled his eyes, reaching out to grab the bag of garlic bread Steve was holding.

"I'm sure you did, sweetheart. How was work?"

Steve stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him and wrapping Bucky up in his arms. He pressed a kiss to Bucky's lips, and Bucky couldn't help but melt into it, putting the garlic bread down on the table beside him to wrap his arm around Steve's neck. Even after three months, Steve's kisses left him feeling dazed and slightly drunk.

"It was good," Steve murmured, and it took Bucky a second to remember that he'd asked him a question. "The pitbull that's been with us for a while, the one with the white tummy? She got adopted."

"Lemme guess, you miss her?" 

Steve buried his face in Bucky's neck and groaned loudly. "So much."

Bucky laughed and extricated himself from Steve's embrace, grabbing the garlic bread and making his way into the kitchen, where Natasha and Clint (who had been released and was rubbing his ear) were grabbing drinks and opening the pizza boxes. Bucky put the garlic bread down next to Clint, who gleefully snatched it up and started eating it. "I keep telling you, you get way too attached to those dogs."

"I can't help it," Steve whined, plastering himself to Bucky's back. Bucky rolled his eyes and reached behind himself to pat Steve's cheek consolingly, and Steve kissed his neck softly.

"Ugh, I forgot how disgusting you two are," Sam groaned, coming out of his room to wrench the garlic bread out of Clint's hands, earning a cry of indignation. "You were bad enough when you weren't dating. Now you're just unbearable."

"Fuck you, we're adorable," Steve mumbled, not even bothering to take his lips off Bucky's neck. Sam made a retching noise.

"I think they're cute," Clint said, his mouth full of pizza. 

"You wouldn't think that if you shared a wall with Barnes," Sam muttered, and Natasha rolled her eyes.

"You haven't even spent a night here, Wilson. Quit being so dramatic; that's James's job."

"Hey," Bucky complained, leaning back against Steve. "I'm not dramatic. Stevie, back me up here."

"She's right, Buck," Steve murmured, tightening his arms around Bucky's torso. His hands curled under Bucky's shirt to stroke his stomach, and Bucky reluctantly felt himself relax back into him. "You are a bit of a drama queen."

"Betrayed, by my own boyfriend," Bucky mumbled, and he felt Steve's exhale of breath as he laughed.

"Alright, I've seen enough," Sam said loudly, and threw himself onto the couch. "Let's get this lovey-dovey shit over and done with and get to the zombies."

"I don't like zombies," Steve complained.

"You don't get a say, lover boy. Think of this as backpay for personal trauma." 

Steve turned his pleading gaze to Bucky, who just rolled his eyes and pushed Steve onto the armchair, grabbing a box of pizza and sitting in his lap.

"You didn't back me up, you have to watch a zombie movie."

Steve pouted, wrapping his arms around Bucky's torso. "You're so cruel."

"I'm not the one who forces his boyfriend to watch Titanic every movie night."

"I will not apologize for my exquisite taste in tragic romance movies."

"The fact that you think tragic romance movies are good just proves my point."

"Can you two stop bickering like you're already married and eat your damn pizza?" Clint groused, his voice muffled (presumably from the pizza that was almost definitely in his mouth). "If we're going to watch a movie with unnecessary violence and body horror, I'm going to enjoy it."

Steve snickered and planted a very loud, wet kiss on Bucky's cheek, and grabbed a piece of pizza, folding it in half and stuffing the whole thing in his mouth.

"You're disgusting," Bucky said, probably too fondly for the situation. Steve grinned brightly, his cheeks bulging with half-chewed pizza and tomato paste on the corner of his mouth. God, Bucky loved him so much.


	2. Wow Look At That Bucky's Making Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow look at that it only took me a month to write this

On the first day of his classes the Monday after their impromptu dinner party, Bucky woke up with Steve plastered to his back, and the alarm clock beeping incessantly. Bucky groaned softly and blindly reached over to slam his hand on top of the clock, sighing in relief when it went silent. Steve nuzzled into his neck, and Bucky hummed softly before gently extricating himself from his boyfriend's very comfortable embrace. Steve whined softly and pulled Bucky back against him, mumbling something incomprehensible into his neck.

"Stevie, let me up," Bucky whispered, a helpless smile on his face. God, he was so in love. "I need to get to class."

"Fuck class," Steve mumbled, obviously still half-asleep. "Want cuddles."

"Stevie, it's my first day of classes," Bucky reminded him. "Don't you have that composition class soon?"

"'S in a few hours," Steve grumbled.

"Well, my class is in an hour, and I need to shower and eat," Bucky reminded him. "I can wait for you after my class in that nice coffee shop - the one next to the bookstore?"

Steve looked up at him with bleary eyes, then sighed and nodded. Bucky kissed his nose, because Steve's morning breath was worse than a dragon's, and no matter how much he loved kissing his boyfriend, he preferred having his sense of smell intact.

"Sam's at a class at the moment, so if you wanna stay in bed, you'll be the only one here when I leave. I'm going to have a shower," Bucky murmured, and Steve suddenly looked a lot more awake.

"Can I come?" he asked hopefully, and Bucky suppressed a snort. Steve was ridiculously predictable.

"As long as you brush your teeth first."

Steve almost scrambled to comply.

\------

It was a relatively nice day, for September. Steve, because he was ridiculous, insisted on walking Bucky to his class, and bounded along beside him like an overenthusiastic golden retriever. For someone who was so reluctant to get up, Steve seemed to be more awake than half the people on campus. The only reason Steve didn't walk him right to the door of his lecture was because Bucky promised to meet him at the coffee shop at eleven. 

The lecture hall was about half full when Bucky got in, and he took a seat at the back and pulled out his sketchbook, planning to draw to pass the time until the class started. Bucky was maybe five minutes into a sketch of a half-asleep Steve, something he drew so often that he didn't even need a reference anymore, when a low whistle came from next to him, and he probably jumped about a foot in the air.

"Dude, that is one hot piece of ass. I'd let him sit on my face anytime."

Bucky turned around, not sure whether to be horrified or amused, to see a small brunette cradling a very large travel mug standing over his shoulder. Before Bucky's mind could catch up to his mouth, he'd blurted out, "He prefers to be the one being sat on," and the girl started howling with laughter. Bucky wasn't entirely sure that she wasn't a hallucination.

When the girl had calmed down, she slammed her mug down on the desk next to Bucky's and thrust out a hand, grinning widely. "I'm Darcy."

"Bucky," Bucky replied, hesitantly shaking her hand. She flopped down into the seat next to him and threw back her coffee like it was a shot, and Bucky wondered how many she'd already had.

"What's your major?"

"Visual Arts."

"And is that hottie a project, or something you'd do for fun?" Darcy asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Well, I definitely do him for fun," Bucky responded automatically, and Darcy shrieked happily again, kicking her feet like an excited toddler.

"Oh, I like you!" she chirped, and grabbed his sketchbook before he could protest. Pulling a pen out of her beanie (why did she have a pen in her beanie?) Darcy scribbled something down underneath the picture of Steve and threw the book back to him before he could react. "Call me sometime. I don't know anyone in this class yet, so I don't have anyone to copy notes off."

Yeah. It was definitely too early for this.

Just as the class started, and the professor began speaking about the significance of Renaissance paintings in modern-day life, literature and visual stimuli, a man on crutches limped into the hall, messenger bag swinging from one shoulder. Once she spotted him, Darcy started frantically waving, seeming completely unaware of the stares she was getting. The man grimaced, but made his way over and gingerly sat down next to Darcy.

"Where have you been?" Darcy hissed. "You promised me you'd be here on time!"

"I can't exactly control the subway, Darce," the man said dryly. "And do you have any idea how hard it is to go up stairs with one leg?"

Bucky immediately looked down at the man's legs and found that yes, his right leg ended just below the knee. The man caught him staring and raised an eyebrow, and Bucky shrugged. Catching sight of his empty sleeve, the man relaxed.

"Oh, yeah!" Darcy said loudly, causing quite a few people to glare over at her, "this is Bucky. He's got a hot fuck buddy."

"Boyfriend," Bucky automatically corrected, and Darcy harrumphed.

"Whatever, you're still hitting that on the regular."

"I'm Daniel," the man cut in, giving Darcy a stern look. "Sorry about her. I'd say it's just because she had a bad night's sleep, but she's like this all the time."

"He's just angry at me because I set him up with a girl he didn't like," Darcy stage whispered, and Daniel rolled his eyes.

"She took my wallet and snuck out the bathroom window. I'm not sure how you found her."

"She's in my stitch and bitch."

"Of course you have a stitch and bitch," Bucky groaned.

"I specialise in itchy wool lingerie," Darcy said proudly. "I gave some to a girl who cheated on my brother, and she got thrush."

Bucky felt vaguely horrified, but Daniel just sighed, as if Darcy giving someone a genital rash from homemade woollen thongs was a regular occurrence. It wasn't until one of the TA's gave them a glare that rivalled Natasha's that they went quiet. 

\------

With both Darcy and Daniel's phone numbers and plans to catch up sometime for both gossip (Darcy's words) and meaningful study time (Daniel's), Bucky made his way to the coffee shop, messenger bag slung over his shoulder and furiously texting Sam saying no, he cannot have Skype sex with T'Challa in the living room, he'll have to go to his bedroom for that, and that no, Bucky doesn't care that the living room has optimal lighting, it's a communal area and he was not going to have Sam's jizz all over the sofa.

The café he and Steve frequented was on the edge of campus, sandwiched between a second-hand book store and a deli run by a grouchy old Italian man and his daughter. It was small, the only seating being a bench running across the windowsill at the front, and a few tables crammed into the back. Bucky waved to the barista - a tall, dark-skinned girl with long, straight hair always up in a ponytail - and sat down at his regular table at the back of the shop, facing the door. 

The café was reasonably crowded, so after Bucky gave his order to the nice waitress who always served him and Steve when they came in, he pulled his headphones on and pressed play on his music, shooting off a text to Steve to let him know he'd arrived. Bucky pulled out his sketchbook and pencil case from his bag and opened it to the most recent page; the still-unfinished sketch from that morning, and lost himself in the lines of graphite. 

Just as he'd started on the shading, someone tapped him on the shoulder. A man around his age with light brown hair, a round face, and a solid build was standing in front of him, holding a coffee in one hand and a tattered old laptop case in the other. Bucky put down his pencil to push his headphones off his ears.

"Can I sit here?" the man asked, smiling wryly. "There are no more seats."

Bucky looked around and, sure enough, there were about twice as many people as there was last time he looked up. "Sure thing," he said, moving his bag out of the way. "Didn't realise it was so crowded."

"Yeah, you seemed pretty interested in whatever you were doing," the man said easily, sitting down with another smile. "I'm Riley."

"Bucky."

"You an artist?" Riley asked, nodding at the sketchbook that Bucky had placed on the table. 

"Uh, yeah. Visual arts major. You a student, too?"

"Yeah. Veterinary studies. Wanna open my own practice. Thought of becoming a pilot, but got put off."

Bucky leaned forward in his seat, sketchbook forgotten. "So you like animals?"

Riley laughed. "Man, I grew up on a farm in South Dakota. I learned to ride a pony before I could walk. I volunteer at the animal shelter in Bushwick on the weekends."

"No way? My boyfriend works there."

"Yeah? What's his name?"

"Steve Rogers. Tall, blonde, wears shirts that are way too small for him?"

"I think I've seen him around. Does he have a soft spot for the Pitbull's?"

"That's the one. Says they got stuck with a bad reputation, and he's a sucker for a sob story. He's actually meant to be meeting me here soon," Bucky realised, checking his phone. Steve had sent him a text fifteen minutes before, saying his lecture was going overtime, but nothing else.

"You want me to go? I can grab a seat up at the counter if you two wanna be alone," Riley said, moving to grab his laptop case.

"It's fine," Bucky reassured him. "He probably won't be here for a little while. His lecture's gone over, and besides, you're not the worst to talk to."

"That's so complimentary, thank you," Riley said dryly. "Bet you got people falling over themselves trying to talk to you."

"Can't you see my fan base outside? I'm a regular Freddy Mercury."

"Outlandishly homosexual?"

"Got it in one."

Steve didn't arrive until an hour later, hair frazzled, the straps of his backpack uneven, and a bruise steadily forming on his cheek. As soon as he stumbled into view Bucky stiffened, glaring a hole into the side of his boyfriend's head as Steve walked across the café akin to someone being led to the gallows. Riley seemed to catch onto this, and looked between them with wide eyes.

"What did you do?" Bucky asked, standing up to take Steve's face in his hand, examining the purpling skin of his cheekbone.

"I hit Gilmore Hodge with a music stand," Steve mumbled. 

"And why did you hit Gilmore Hodge with a music stand?" Bucky asked, trying to keep his patience. 

"He was being sexist."

"And did he hit you back?"

"He threw his guitar at me."

"You're an idiot," Bucky said exasperatedly, brushing Steve's hair out of his face. "A buffoon. An imbecile. It is your first goddamn week of classes, and you've already assaulted a classmate."

"In my defence-"

"I don't wanna hear it," Bucky spoke over him. "This is your first warning, buddy. Any more and you're not sleeping over for a month."

"Bucky," Steve whined, slinging his arms around Bucky's waist. "Baby, I'm sorry. I won't do it again, I promise."

"Don't you make promises you can't keep, Rogers," Bucky warned, but he was already melting. Damn Steve and his puppy eyes and warm hugs.

"I'll make it up to you," Steve murmured in his ear, his warm breath ghosting across Bucky's neck and making the smaller man shiver. "Just tell me what to do, baby, I'll do it."

"As much as I would love to see you slaving over things just because I told you to, we're in a public place and if this goes any further we'll probably be arrested for indecent exposure." Bucky pushed Steve off gently and then flushed when he caught Riley grinning at them both in a manner not dissimilar to a cat who'd recently mauled some native wildlife. Steve looked between them in that confused way that made him look like a golden retriever.

"This is Riley," Bucky said, just to fill the silence that had descended over them. "Riley, this is my boyfriend Steve."

"I can see that," Riley drawled, wiggling his eyebrows. "As fun as this has been, I need to leave to go somewhere there aren't ridiculously cute gay couples that make me feel pathetic about my own love life. I'll text you."

"Get fucked," Bucky replied, and Riley laughed, patted him on the cheek, and walked out. Steve watched Riley leave, looking nonplussed.

"What did I miss?"

Bucky just sighed and patted his boyfriend's cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a bit shorter than usual, but this is all I could come up with for now. I've got the next few chapters planned though, so hopefully the next chapter won't take a month to get published. Love you all!


	3. Happy Thanksgiving have some angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this didn't mean to be so angsty
> 
> Chapter warnings: details about a terminal mental illness, and an episode caused by said illness. For more information, check the end notes
> 
> Also I know that I went ahead and jumped like two months forward, but I kinda wanna get the plot going. So next chapter, there will be actual plot, not just set-up and ridiculous boys being in love. And I KNOW I promised to upload this less than a month after the other chapter, but as you can see, it has almost been two months, so I failed that magnificently. And for what - only 3k??? I blame corona

Settling into life on campus was surprisingly easy, Bucky realised. He and Sam took to living together like fish to water, stealing each other's food, getting smashed on homemade cocktails and watching sad period dramas together, and having loud, athletic sex on the couch with their respective boyfriends (or, in Sam's case, loud Skype sex, complete with toys). Steve usually slept over at least once a week, or Bucky went over to his apartment for a night or two at a time and got a lift back on the back of Steve's motorcycle.   
  
The mild autumn weather turned colder and colder, until Bucky and Sam had to wear three layers of clothing at all times because their shitty dorm room had a heater that was unreliable on a good day and completely useless on a bad. Before he knew it, it was halfway through the term and Thanksgiving was just around the corner  
  
Bucky's family hadn't celebrated Thanksgiving the year before, but when he and Becca were kids, it was a big deal. His ma would invite all their extended family in Brooklyn - which was just Aunt Edith, Alice, and one of George's brothers and his family - and she'd buy a huge turkey that would last them until January. There would be presents and games and Aunt Edith would inevitably kick out George's brother and family about halfway through because of their blatant antisemitism, and even though Bucky's family didn't actively practise, they were still Jewish. Kind of.

It was Becca's favourite holiday.  
  
The last day of classes before the Thanksgiving long weekend Aunt Edith had called, inviting Bucky home for the holiday. Steve, having no family around, was coming too, since apparently Joseph couldn't be assed coming back to spend the holidays with his only son.  
  
Sam had, reluctantly, agreed to go home for Thanksgiving to spend it with his family, and T'Challa was flying down to go with him. This meant that T'Challa would be staying with Sam, so Bucky decided to stay with Steve from Wednesday to Monday. Steve, unsurprisingly, was ecstatic. T'Challa's plane landed on Wednesday, so Bucky, being the Designated Best Friend, was forced to tag along to pick him up from the airport.  
  
Sam, from the front seat of the taxi, was vibrating at a frequency that Bucky didn't know existed. He'd been an absolute pain in Bucky's ass ever since T'Challa had announced that he was coming back to the States for Thanksgiving since apparently Wakanda had a different holiday that ended a couple of weeks beforehand, and Bucky wasn't entirely sure how much more he could take.  
  
"You really need to calm down," Bucky said absently, trying to ignore the constant movement out of the corner of his eye. Steve was attempting to make a pie in Bucky's absence, and Bucky was looking forward to going back to Steve's place to make sure he hadn't burned the apartment building down.  
  
"I can't help it," Sam mumbled, shifting restlessly. "I haven't seen him since June. That's five months, Bucky. How would you feel if Steve had been away for that long?"  
  
Bucky sighed. "Probably the same way. But I don't wanna walk into an airport just to be escorted out because you're acting like a crackhead."  
  
Sam grumbled, but did stop his weird twitching. Bucky settled back into his seat, silently praying that he'd get back to Steve's before dark.  
  
Unfortunately, as soon as they got inside the airport, Sam looked like he was about to faint. 

"Dude. Are you okay?" Bucky finally asked, and Sam jumped about a foot in the air before whipping around and grabbing Bucky by the shoulders.  
  
"Bucky. What if he breaks up with me?"  
  
Bucky blinked. Of all the things he was expecting Sam to say, it wasn't that. Leading his friend to a less crowded corner, Bucky rested a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sam. What are you talking about?"  
  
Sam ran a hand through his hair, looking distraught. "Well, we haven't seen each other in five months. And he's been acting weird on our calls, and whenever I bring it up he always changes the subject, and..." Sam choked out a sob. "Bucky, what if he's cheating on me?"  
  
"Stop it," Bucky said firmly. "Sammy, T'Challa loves you. I know it, and you know it, too. If he really didn't want to see you, do you think he would have persuaded you into letting him meet your family? Do you really think he'd fly halfway across the world just to break up with you?"  
  
Sam shrugged, but he looked a little less frantic. "I know. I know, okay? I'm just nervous. And scared."  
  
"I get it," Bucky said gently. "But you don't need to worry. It's T'Challa. I guarantee as soon as you see him, all this will just fly out the window."  
  
Sam took a deep breath and nodded. "You're right. Jeez, of course you are. I'm being stupid."  
  
"No, you're not. You're just nervous." Bucky looped his arm through Sam's. "Come on. Let's get your man."  
  
Just as Bucky had led Sam back into the throngs, an announcement sounded, saying the flight from Nigeria had just disembarked, and Sam squeaked.  
  
"Okay, alright, I can do this," he said, then looked horrified. "Bucky, I haven't washed this shirt in three days."  
  
"It's not noticeable," Bucky assured him. "I didn't even realise."  
  
"And I haven't shaved!"  
  
"You shaved both last night and this morning."  
  
"Okay, well, this morning at breakfast I spilt some oatmeal on my pants, and I should really change them before I see T'Challa, and-"  
  
"Hey, there's T'Challa!" Bucky interrupted loudly and raised his hand, thanking whatever God was looking down upon him that he could get out of the conversation. T'Challa waved back, a grin on his face and a briefcase held in his hand. Sam whipped around, and Bucky watched as all the worry slipped off his face to be replaced with a stupid grin.  
  
"Are you going to help me with my bags, Samuel, or will you just stand over there like an oaf?" T'Challa called over. Sam bounded over, not unlike Steve when he was about to get his dick wet, and instead of taking T'Challa's bags, he grabbed T'Challa's face and kissed him stupid. And kept kissing him. And then it had been almost a full minute and they were full-on making out in the middle of the airport.  
  
"Can you two hurry up this little lovefest so I can make sure my boyfriend hasn't blown up his apartment building?" Bucky finally called out. "You can keep going when you're in private. And away from me."

They barely made it to the car before they were locked at the lips again. Bucky and the poor Uber driver had to sit in 45 minutes of traffic as T'Challa literally climbed into Sam's lap and made it his mission to create a mosaic of hickeys all over Sam's neck and chest. Bucky silently thanked God that he'd already moved everything he needed over to Steve's place the night before, so he didn't have to get out with the lovebirds and pack while they inevitably fucked on every piece of furniture he and Sam owned.   
  
After the Uber dropped off Sam and T'Challa (and Bucky promised to give the poor guy an extra-large tip) it was only a short drive to Steve's apartment. As soon as Steve opened the door, a very stained apron on and flour smeared across his cheek, Bucky could smell the unmistakable scent that always accompanied Steve's baking.  
  
"You burned the pie, didn't you?"  
  
Steve hung his head, looking like a kicked puppy. A very large, very muscular puppy. Bucky sighed and walked past him, observing the absolute mess that was the kitchen. "Babe, how did you even manage to do this?"  
  
"I don't know," Steve mumbled petulantly.   
  
"Stevie, there's egg on the ceiling," Bucky said in exasperation. "Why are you using egg in pie pastry? There's no egg in pie pastry."  
  
"The recipe said it was a good idea," Steve mumbled. Bucky turned around, hand on his hip, to see Steve shuffling his feet guiltily. A clump of dough fell out of his hair and landed with a thwack on the floor.  
  
"You're a disaster," Bucky sighed, walking over to rub the flour off Steve's cheek. "Do I need to hire a babysitter or something?"  
  
"I just wanted to do something nice for you," Steve pouted. Bucky hid the goofy smile that was threatening to take over his face and attempted to school his expression into something firm. He wasn't entirely sure it worked.  
  
"How about this. You clean up your mess and have a shower, and then later you can give me a back rub to make it up to me."  
  
Steve immediately brightened up (which made Bucky suspicious - had he been fooled by his idiot boyfriend?) and leaned in to kiss Bucky's cheek, fast enough that Bucky couldn't stop him, and smeared flour all over Bucky's face.  
  
"Seems you'll have to have a shower, too," Steve said innocently.   
  
"You're right," Bucky nodded, backing away towards the bathroom. "I'll have one while you're cleaning up. And I think I'll use all the hot water, too."  
  
Steve tackled him to the ground, making Bucky shriek with laughter.  
  
  
\-----  
  
  
"Are you sure they'll like me?" Steve asked, wringing his hands together as much as he could with a bouquet of tulips in his hand.  
  
"Steve, you've met them before," Bucky reminded him, linking their arms together as much as he could without dislodging the flowers. "Ma loves you, Alice thinks you're a superhero, and Aunt Edith is waiting for her wedding invitation. It'll be fine."  
  
It was about eleven in the morning on Thanksgiving Day, and Bucky had spent the whole morning trying to convince Steve that he wouldn't be thrown out a window by Aunt Edith the second he stepped foot into Bucky's old apartment. Steve was wearing a button-down shirt with nice jeans and a tie because he was terrified of not dressing properly for the occasion. Bucky, who knew that the embarrassing family secrets would start coming out around four and had no compulsion to impress his family, was wearing a relatively nice shirt (one without any holes in it) and his jeans.   
  
"That was almost a year ago!" Steve protested. "And your Aunt Edith met me while I was naked in your bed after the Formal! That's not the best first impression!"  
  
"And then she made you pancakes," Bucky responded, reaching out to knock on the apartment door. "And Alice sat on your lap all through the breakfast."  
  
Before Steve could keep protesting the door swung open, revealing Aunt Edith in a floral dress with her auburn hair piled on top of her head.  
  
" _Kotyonok!_ " she cried happily, throwing her arms around Bucky's shoulders. "It's so good to see you!"   
  
She pulled away only to yank Steve down into a hug, and Steve flailed for a couple of seconds before hesitantly wrapping his arms around her. She was so much shorter than him that Bucky had to hide a chuckle at the picture they made.  
  
"Steve, _moy mal'chik_ it has been too long!" she crowed, patting his cheeks. "Have you been eating? You look malnourished!"  
  
"'M not malnourished," Steve mumbled, his cheeks turning red. "I just can't cook."  
  
Aunt Edith gasped in horror. "And you live by yourself? What do you eat?"  
  
"Ramen." Aunt Edith looked scandalized.   
  
"Steve got you flowers," Bucky interjected before Aunt Edith could start another spiel about Americans and their sub-par child-rearing. It worked - Aunt Edith started cooing over them because Steve was her favourite, and ushered them inside. Winnifred was sitting at the kitchen bench with a glass of red wine, her eyes tired but alert, and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief.   
  
"James." She held her arms out, and Bucky curled into her embrace. It had been so long since he'd seen her all there, and he breathed in the scent of her perfume. "How are you?"  
  
"'M good, ma," Bucky mumbled. "Sam said to tell you he misses you."  
  
"Then tell that boy to come over sometime," she scolded playfully. "I haven't seen him since April."  
  
Bucky didn't bother to tell her that Sam had visited several times after April - it would just upset her.   
  
"I brought Steve," Bucky said instead, and Winnifred frowned in confusion. Steve, from where he was still trapped by Aunt Edith, looked over at the sound of his name.  
  
"Steve? I didn't know you had a friend named Steve," she said, and Bucky tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. Steve glanced over at him, his eyes sad.

"I met him last year, Ma, remember? He's my boyfriend. We've been dating for six months." Winnie looked over at Steve and smiled politely.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Steve." Steve reached over to take Bucky's hand, making him release the breath he didn't know he was holding. Steve squeezed his hand in reassurance, smiling at Winnifred.  
  
"It's nice to see you too, Winnie."  
  
Thankfully, Alice came skidding in with a shriek and slammed into Bucky's legs, effectively ending the conversation.  
  
Bucky had forgotten the peace that he could feel at home, surrounded by his family. It had been so long since his home life wasn't a total shitshow - first, there was his dad's abuse and alcoholism, then there was his death, then Becca left, then Becca died, and Winnie started having her episodes. But at that moment, Winnie was acting like her old self, sitting up at the bench and laughing with Aunt Edith, who was bustling around the kitchen. Bucky sat with Alice in his lap, listening to her babble about her school and her friends, and watched Steve get impromptu cooking lessons from Edith, an overwhelmed look on his face. After a while Aunt Edith clapped her hands and shooed them all towards the dining room table, setting plates and food down until the whole table was almost overflowing.  
  
Everything was going perfectly. Steve wasn't worrying anymore, Alice hadn't started crying yet, Edith was keeping the micromanaging to a minimum, and Winnie hadn't retreated into her own mind. At least, until about halfway through dinner.  
  
"George, could you pass the potatoes, please?" Winnie asked absently. Bucky's fork slipped out of his hands and fell onto his plate with a clatter, and he reached over to grip Steve's thigh tightly. Edith had straightened up, and Alice was looking at Winnie with wide, confused eyes.

"Who's George?" Alice asked.  
  
"Winnie, it may be time for a rest," Edith said, but her voice shook slightly. Winnie looked up, frowning.  
  
"What for? I feel fine."  
  
"What's the date today, Winnifred?" Edith asked slowly, and Winnie blinked.  
  
"November 23rd. We're having Thanksgiving dinner, Eddie."  
  
"What year?" Now Edith's voice was shaking a lot. Winnie was frowning, looking around.  
  
"1995, Eddie, you know this. Where did Mama and Papa go?"  
  
"Steven, take Alice and James into the bedroom, please."  
  
Steve gently prised Bucky's hand off his thigh, where it had been gripping hard enough that his nails had torn through Steve's jeans, and intertwined their fingers, pulling Bucky out of his seat.  
  
"Come on, Allie, let's go to your room. You can show me that art project you were talking about," Steve said quietly. Alice frowned.  
  
"But what about food?"

"We can have food later, honey," Steve encouraged. Alice nodded, seemingly satisfied, and slid off her chair, skipping down the hall to her bedroom. Bucky could do nothing but stare at his mother, gripping Steve's hand so tight that both their hands had turned white. Winnie looked back, her eyes wide and worried.  
  
"George? Where are you going?"  
  
Bucky felt his throat close up, and could do nothing but let Steve lead him out of the room.  
  
They ended up leaving early. About half an hour after the incident, Aunt Edith had come into Alice's bedroom, her eyes red and mascara smudged.  
  
"Your mother's sleeping," was all she said. "I think it's best if we... postpone."  
  
"She needs help," Bucky said quietly. Edith blinked rapidly, her face crumpling as she tried to smile.

"I know."  
  
Steve slipped his hand into Bucky's and guided him out of the apartment. Bucky was barely able to say goodbye to Edith and Alice, and instead held onto Steve's arm for dear life, and he didn't even realise that he'd checked out until Steve nudged him and suddenly they were halfway down the street.

"Hey." Steve had stopped walking and had pulled them into a nearby alley, his eyes wide and concerned. His hands were slowly rubbing Bucky's shoulders, and Bucky couldn't help but lean into him with a quiet sob. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky's body, pulling him in and shielding him from the world.

"She's sick, Steve," Bucky whispered. "She's sick and she needs help, and we can't help her."

"Don't think like that," Steve said gently. His breath caressed the bare skin of Bucky's neck. "It won't do anyone any good."

"What can I do, then?" Bucky asked, his voice cracking as he turned his head up to look at Steve desperately. "Steve, what can I do?"

Steve lifted a hand to cup Bucky's face, his expression pained and scared. "I don't know."

Bucky sobbed and pitched forward to bury his face in Steve's neck, his hand scrabbling at Steve's clothes, trying to pull him closer. He smelled familiar, comforting, and his big hands were clutching Bucky close, and there was nowhere safer than where Bucky was right then.

"Come on, sweetheart," Steve whispered. "We can't stay here. Let's get you home, alright?"

Bucky nodded wordlessly, not trusting himself to speak, and let Steve lead him out to where an Uber was waiting. He hadn't noticed Steve take out his phone or call anyone, but he must have at some point because the driver cheerfully greeted Steve and kept the music turned down low as he drove. Bucky just stayed plastered to Steve's side, still hiding his face.

When they got back to Steve's apartment (that had slowly turned into their apartment, and if Bucky wasn't feeling so awful he'd be grinning like a lunatic about it) Steve sat Bucky down in the bathroom and turned the shower on, carefully taking both their clothes off and pulling Bucky into the shower with him. It was a tight fit, especially with Steve's shoulders, but Bucky couldn't help the sigh of relief when the hot water hit him, Steve holding him close and rubbing his back in long, slow motions. 

Bucky barely noticed Steve lathering him in body wash and rubbing shampoo into his scalp, and instead just leaned into his boyfriend with his eyes half-closed, the day leaving him exhausted. It was probably only around three in the afternoon, but Bucky felt like he could fall asleep right there.

"Baby," Steve finally murmured gently. "You wanna get out? I set some clothes on the bed. We can snuggle and watch movies."

Bucky raised his head from where it rested in the crook of Steve's neck and cradled Steve's head in his hand, pulling him down for a soft, slow kiss that made his body fill up with warmth. "Thank you for this. I love you."

Steve smiled dopily and kissed him again, his hands running down Bucky's body to rest lightly on his hips. "I love you too. I can order pizza?"

Bucky hummed and took Steve's hand, leading him out of the shower and grabbing a towel. "Sounds good. Can I choose the movie?" Steve pulled him closer again, seemingly not caring about the fact that they were getting water everywhere, and took the towel out of Bucky's hands to rub it through Bucky's hair.

"Anything you want, Buck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kotyonok - kitten  
> Moy mal'chik - my boy
> 
> Now the episode experienced in this chapter is Winnie believing that the year is 1995, and that Bucky is actually her late husband. This is quite common in people suffering dementia, although Winnie's is undiagnosed as of yet.


	4. God Damnit Sam What Is It With You And Relationship Issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow look at me go, that's like two chapters in a week. Here, have this one happy, sweet, smut-filled one before everything inevitably goes to shit next time

Bucky got the call a week into December.

He was staying over at Steve's for the night, standing up at the stove and stirring a pot of pasta. Steve had just got back from work, and had pressed a quick kiss to Bucky's mouth on his way to the shower. Bucky could hear his off-key singing through the wall.

The phone screen told him it was Edith, and Bucky almost scrambled to pick it up. He hadn't heard from her since Thanksgiving a few weeks prior, and he'd been going almost out of his mind with worry. Steve had tried to help, bless him, but there wasn't much to be done.

"James," Edith greeted. Her voice was stiff and formal, like she was trying to avoid letting her emotions into her words.

"How's Ma?" Bucky asked quietly. Edith sighed.

"We went to the doctor. After Thanksgiving," she clarified. "They…. They suspect that she has early-onset Alzheimer's."

Bucky slowly took the phone away from his ear, placed it on the kitchen bench, and walked over to the stove and turned it off. His hand was trembling. When he brought the phone back up to his ear, Edith was talking.

"…talking about a brain scan, to make sure. They don't know how far along she is, but considering her symptoms started almost a year ago they're putting her under observation."

"Can we afford it?" Bucky asked. His voice was surprisingly steady.

"For now. But…" Edith took a shaky breath. "We don't have the money to get her the care she's going to need."

"I can drop out of college," Bucky said, already making a plan. "That'll save some money. I'll get a job, work whatever jobs I come across. My friend, Tony, his dad's a CEO. I could speak to him, maybe try and get hours there-"

"You don't need to do anything," she said firmly. "James, you're so young. You deserve to go to college, have fun, spend time with your friends and boyfriend. You can't throw your life away because of some rotten luck."

"She's my mother, Eddie." Bucky's voice cracked halfway through the sentence. "I can't just do nothing."

"You won't be doing nothing. You can visit, you can babysit Alice when I'm too busy, you can even do the housework. But you are not going to drop out of college."

Bucky took a deep breath, silently willing the lump in his throat to go away. "Okay."

"Sweetheart." Aunt Edith's voice was gentle, soft. "Everything's going to be okay."

But it wasn't. Bucky knew, and Aunt Edith knew. They were just kidding themselves thinking otherwise. Winnifred Barnes had dementia; her mind was fading, she was mistaking Bucky for her dead husband and Alice for her dead child, she was getting the years mixed up, she was lying in a pool of apathy and numbness and alcoholism for weeks on end. She wasn't going to be okay.

Bucky barely registered hanging up, barely registered putting the phone down and leaning heavily against the counter. He felt numb, his fingertips tingly, his head full of cotton buds. His mouth was dry and his tongue was swollen and his vision was going blurry, and he had to dig his hand into the countertop to prevent his knees from giving out under him.

"Hey, babe! Is the pasta ready yet? I was thinkin' if we hurry and eat on the sofa, we could get the tail end of that show you like -"

Steve's voice cut off suddenly, and then there were warm, big hands cupping his cheeks and lifting his head up, Steve's worried face swimming in his vision.

"Baby? Buck, what's wrong?" One of Steve's hands swept through Bucky's hair, an almost unconscious gesture of affection as he looked Bucky over, those big blue eyes wide with concern.

"It's my ma," Bucky finally croaked, and Steve's face fell.

"Here, let's get you sitting down."

He herded Bucky over to the couch and gently pushed him down, kneeling between his legs and stroking his face and neck and chest like an anxious mother hen.

"Stevie, come up here? Please?" Bucky asked meekly. Steve let out a quiet whine and crawled up to press Bucky back into the sofa, his big body nestled between Bucky's spread thighs and his arms worming their way between Bucky's body and the couch. Bucky sighed in relief, sliding his arm around Steve's broad shoulders and burying his face in the crook of Steve's neck, his tattoo a black inkblot in the corner of Bucky's eye. Steve shuffled them around so that they were side by side, and it might have been a bit of a tight fit, but neither of them really cared.

"What's going on, sweetheart?" Steve asked gently. One of his hands was buried in Bucky's hair, the other on the bare skin of his hip, rubbing soothing circles where he'd hiked Bucky's shirt up.

"After Thanksgiving, Edith took Ma to the doctor," Bucky started, slightly muffled from Steve's skin. His voice wasn't even shaking anymore. It was devoid of emotion, like he was giving a report on the stock market and not talking about the decreasing health of his own mother. "She needs a brain scan, but the doctors think it's Alzheimer's. She's been put under observation until they figure out how far along she is."

Steve's arms tighten around him. "Oh, baby... Buck, honey. I'm so sorry."

Bucky shrugged, pressing his face more firmly into Steve's neck. "We knew she was sick. It's not that much of a shock."

"But it's hard," Steve said gently. Bucky felt tears prick at his eyes, and he squeezed them shut. His arm tightened around Steve's shoulders.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's hard." His voice cracked. Steve cooed softly and kissed his temple, and Bucky finally allowed himself to cry.

\-----

There really wasn't that much time between the Thanksgiving break and Winter break - only about three weeks, but that still seemed to be enough for Bucky's professors to load paper after paper on him. He, Darcy, Sam and Daniel had started meeting every Monday after classes to study and depending on the day, it was either in the library or the coffee shop where Darcy's on-again/off-again boyfriend worked. The second time they got together, this time in the coffee shop, Bucky felt his phone buzz when Darcy was getting their drinks (read: flirting with the barista).

_FROM Riley: I am so bored and stressed fuck college_

Bucky raised an eyebrow and looked up at Daniel, who had his nose buried in a book. "You mind if a friend joins us? He's having a tough time studying."

"Sure, man," Daniel mumbled, not taking his eyes off his book. Bucky wasn't entirely sure he'd heard him but shrugged.

"Who's the friend?" Sam asked curiously.

"His name's Riley. He works with Steve." Sam hummed and turned back to his laptop.

_TO Riley: u wanna come study with us? There's coffee_

_FROM Riley: tell ur boyfriend to watch tf out man i love u_

Bucky rolled his eyes and texted him the address.

"Who you texting?" Darcy asked, plopping down beside him.

"A friend. He'll meet us here soon," Bucky said absentmindedly, and Darcy perked up.

"Is he cute?"

Bucky shrugged. "Sure, I guess."

"That's not a proper answer, Bucky," she said accusingly, pointing a red-tipped finger at him. "Samuel, you're gay. Is he hot?"

"I haven't met him," Sam replied, tapping away on his laptop. Darcy groaned, and went back to poking Bucky.

"Come on, I want deets."

"You'll see him when he gets here!" Bucky protested. "Now come here and help me figure out what the hell Dali meant when he drew these melting clocks."

"He saw camembert melting in the sun and based it off that," Darcy replied, waving her hand in annoyance. "How long will your friend take?"

"I don't know, fifteen minutes? How do you even know that about Dali?"

"I have a blog," she defended.

"How does that equate to obscure knowledge about Salvador Dali's inspiration for melted clocks?!"

"Can you two shut up?" Daniel asked absently. "I'm up to a good part."

"Danny, that book is about vampires fucking," Darcy said, and Daniel looked up to glare at her.

"It's a literary masterpiece and I won't hear otherwise."

"It's written by Stephanie Meyer!" 

"Hey look, our coffees are here," Sam said quickly, and Darcy immediately dropped the subject to grab her latte from a slightly scared-looking waiter and take a very loud slurp. Daniel rolled his eyes and went back to his book.

Riley arrived about twelve minutes later, his laptop case tucked under his arm. Bucky waved over at him, causing both Sam and Darcy to look up.

"He's cute," Darcy commented. "In a teddy-bear kinda way. What do you think, Sam?"

Bucky glanced over at Sam when he didn't answer and clicked his fingers under Sam's nose, making him start. Sam glared at him and took a long drink of his coffee. Riley collapsed on the chair next to Bucky, letting out a loud groan and putting his head on the table.

"That bad, huh?" Bucky asked sympathetically.

"Dude. I think my chem professor hates me." Riley looked up at him mournfully. "Sulphuric acid. All over my favourite jeans. I had to strip in the middle of the lab to avoid chemical burns."

"Poor baby," Bucky agreed, then turned to where the others were watching with mild interest. "Guys, this is Riley. Riley, these are Daniel, Darcy and Sam."

Riley smiled brightly at them, leaning forward on his elbows. His eyes seemed to linger on Sam. "So how do you all know Bucky?"

"Me and Danny met him a few months ago," Darcy said. "Same lecture."

Riley looked at Sam, who blushed faintly and avoided eye contact.

"He's my roommate."

"Is that all I am to you now, Sammy?" Bucky demanded, clutching at Sam's chest. "After all we've been through?"

"Jeez, okay, drama queen!" Sam yelped, batting Bucky's hand away. "He is _also_ my best friend."

"When did you two meet?" Riley asked curiously. He leaned forward more, and Sam's blush deepened. 

"We were... Eight? Nine?"

"Nine," Bucky corrected absently.

"Not that this topic of conversation isn't fascinating," Darcy cut in, a gleam in her eyes. Oh no. "But I gotta ask, Riley - which team are you batting for?"

Riley blinked. "Uh... what?"

"Which way do you swing? Where do you stick your prick? What makes your loins quiver? How-"

"Okay, please stop," Bucky interrupted. Riley had turned pink.

"I'm pan, if that's what you're asking?" he said uncertainly. 

"So you like men?"

"Yes?"

Darcy very conspicuously looked over at Sam, her eyes wide. Riley followed the movement, and when his gaze landed on Sam, his mouth curled up into a little smile. Sam grumbled under his breath and went back to his laptop. Daniel looked completely lost. Bucky felt pretty much the exact same.

They spent maybe a half-hour in comfortable silence, each of them working on individual work. Bucky sometimes looked up to see Riley gazing over at Sam, or Darcy judgementally slurping her latte. Bucky got a text from Steve at one point; it was a picture of Steve on the floor, with about ten tiny little balls of fluff covering his body.

_We got puppies!!!_ the caption read. Bucky saved it.

After about an hour, Sam's phone chirped loudly, startling Bucky out of a daydream that involved him, Steve and some strategically placed whipped cream. Sam pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped at it, and his face lit up.

"You gotta go?" Bucky guessed, and Sam blushed.

"It's T'Challa. He's busy most of this week, but he's free tonight. He's gonna call me when I get home."

"Should I vacate for the night?" Bucky asked teasingly, and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Please do. I don't want a repeat of last time."

"What happened last time?" Darcy asked eagerly.

"I walked into Sam's room to ask him what he wanted for dinner, and got a face full of his bare ass," Bucky sniffed.

"You should've knocked!" Sam said defensively. "I always knock when Steve's over!"

"I didn't know T'Challa was going to call!" Bucky argued. "I thought you were studying or something!"

"'Or something' is right," Daniel mumbled, and Darcy high-fived him.

"I gotta go," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "See you guys later. Nice to meet you, Riley."

"Can I still come home?" Bucky called after him. In response, Sam flipped him off from outside the shop.

"Who's T'Challa?" Riley asked casually.

"Sam's boyfriend," Bucky said absently, already pulling out his phone to text Steve. "He's overseas at the moment."

_TO Stevie: Sam's got a hot Skype date. Can I stay the night?_

"I didn't know he was seeing anyone," Riley said. Bucky looked over at him; he had a slight frown on his face.

"Oh, yeah. They've been together for, like, two years now. It would be longer, but they were broken up for a little while."

"It's serious?"

"T'Challa wanted Sam to go with him to Africa. If he was still around, they'd probably be living together by now."

Riley nodded, but he was still frowning. He looked a little bit like a kicked puppy. Darcy patted him on the arm sympathetically. Bucky was about to ask what was wrong when Steve texted back.

_FROM Steve: Was gonna ask if you wanted to come over._

_TO Steve: You got a plan or something?_

_FROM Steve: Maybe._

Bucky rolled his eyes, but he felt the heat on his cheeks.

_TO Steve: better make it worth my while, Rogers._

_FROM Steve: sounds like a challenge ;) see you soon_

"Are you sexting right now?" Darcy asked suspiciously.

"Making plans," Bucky replied, shoving his phone into his pocket. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a very important appointment with Steve's dick."

"Aw man, don't say that," Riley whined. "I work with the guy!"

"Be thankful I haven't sent you pics," Bucky retorted.

"Can you send me pics?" Darcy asked hopefully. "Or I could just sit in. You know, whatever."

"You're not allowed to watch me and my boyfriend have sex."

"My boyfriend and I," Daniel corrected. Darcy hit him across the back of the head. Bucky rolled his eyes again and left them to their squabbling.

\-----

Almost as soon as Bucky got through the door Steve was pressing him against the wall, his hands sliding up Bucky's sides and his mouth sucking marks into the thin skin of Bucky's neck. Bucky sighed happily, looping his arm around Steve's neck to keep him there, and Steve hummed into his skin.

"Hey baby," Steve murmured into Bucky's throat, biting down gently. Bucky moaned and tilted his head back to give Steve more access, already feeling himself fill out in his pants.

" _Bozhe moy_ , Rogers," he said breathlessly. "What's the occasion?"

"Wanted to be sweet on ya." Steve's hands slid up Bucky's shirt, rucking it up and off, Bucky's arm getting caught in the sleeve. "You gonna let me?" He slid a leg between Bucky's and pushed up, just slightly, and Bucky gasped at the sudden pressure on his cock.

"You got some kind of plan, Rogers?" Bucky gasped, grinding down onto Steve's thigh. His jeans were far too tight now, and Steve was wearing far too much clothing.

"Got it all planned out," Steve assured him and reached up to pinch one of Bucky's nipples. "Was gonna wine and dine you first, but I couldn't wait. Had'ta get my hands on this sweet body first."

"Then hop to it, stud, we don't have all night," Bucky snarked. Steve chuckled quietly and let go of the skin he was suckling on with a quiet pop and raised his head to slot his lips to Buckys. Bucky groaned in satisfaction, immediately opening his mouth for Steve to slip his tongue into, and tightened his grip on Steve's shoulders. Bucky tugged on Steve's hair and bent his legs slightly; the only warning he gave before he jumped up and wrapped his legs around Steve's waist. Steve pressed him harder into the wall, groaning his approval into Bucky's mouth and grinding his erection into the meat of Bucky's ass. He was wearing sweatpants, and from what Bucky could tell, no underwear, and even through the layers of clothes between them he could feel the heat pouring off Steve's skin.

"You gonna take me to bed, or are you planning to fuck me against the wall?" Bucky mumbled into the kiss. "Not that I'd be opposed to that, but I doubt you'd be able to hold me up for that long."

"I totally would be able to!" Steve said indignantly, but he slid his hands down to cup Bucky's thigh and ass and started clumsily walking towards the bedroom. "You have no faith in me."

"I have plenty of faith, babe," Bucky reassured him, scritching his nails through Steve's hair and making the larger man purr happily. "But you'd have to be some kind of bodybuilder to hold me up for that long while fucking me."

Steve grumbled under his breath, and Bucky kissed his cheek in consolation. Bucky got placed gently on the bed, and he shuffled up so that his feet weren't hanging off the end, pulling Steve with him by the front of his shirt. Steve went along happily, nestling himself between Bucky's thighs and planting kisses all up Bucky's left side and over his stump.

"Take these off," Bucky mumbled, pawing at Steve's shirt and the drawstring of his pants. "Wanna feel you."

Steve obediently slid off the bed, pulling his shirt over his head and his sweatpants down his legs and throwing them to the side, exposing all of that golden skin, marked with freckles and the tattoo on his collarbone standing out starkly. Bucky used the temporary free movement of his limbs to undo his jeans and peel them off, his underwear shortly following. Steve made a sound of appreciation from his spot next to the bed and ran a hand up Bucky's bare thigh before crawling back onto Bucky's body. Bucky sighed happily at the feeling of Steve's bare skin against his, the fine hairs that scattered across Steve's chest brushing against his nipples and making him squirm. Steve leaned in to kiss him again, sinking his whole weight onto Bucky and pressing him back into the bed, and Bucky moaned quietly, running his hand up and down Steve's bare back and feeling the muscles ripple under his palm. Steve's dick was hard against Bucky's thigh, and Bucky shifted just slightly, just enough to get their cocks brushing together. Steve moaned into Bucky's mouth and gripped his leg, hoisting it up over his hip to get a better angle as he languidly ground down, and Bucky lifted his hips as much as he could with each thrust, revelling in the feeling of Steve's hard cock sliding against his own.

"How d'you wanna do this?" Steve mumbled, already reaching for the lube they keep on top of the bedside table.

"Just like this," Bucky gasped out, his chest heaving. His skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and his hair was sticking to his face, and he probably looked like a total mess but Steve was looking at him like he was the sun and moon and all the planets. "On my back. Want you on top."

"You don't wanna ride me?" Steve asked teasingly, popping the cap of the lube and spreading it across his fingers, and Bucky let out a breathless laugh.

"Yeah, I know how much you like that," he teased, his breath hitching as Steve's finger slowly circled his rim. "Next time."

Steve leaned down to kiss him softly and slid his finger in slowly, and Bucky sighed happily at the feeling. They did this relatively often, and he was still a little loose from the weekend, so it wasn't long before Steve was pulling out the finger and replacing it with two. Steve was watching his fingers disappear into Bucky's hole with reverence, with love, and when Steve loved, he loved with his whole being, and Bucky felt tears prick at his eyes from the sheer overwhelming feeling it was to be loved by Steve Rogers. And he really shouldn't be getting so emotional about the way his boyfriend looks at his asshole when he's getting fingered, but he can't help it, not when Steve's looking at him like that.

"C'mere," he said, voice thick, and roped his arm around Steve's shoulders to kiss him. Steve melted into it, his tongue tracing Bucky's lips almost lazily and mimicking the motion his fingers were making inside Bucky's hole.

"Y'think you're ready?" Steve murmured, and Bucky hesitated.

"One more?"

"Sure, sweetheart."

The third finger was a bit of a stretch, and it took a bit of wriggling on Bucky's part to get it to start feeling good, but then Steve crooked his fingers and brushed against Bucky's prostate and all the pain flew out the window.

"Okay, okay, I'm ready now," Bucky finally panted, his hips bucking up and his hole clenching when Steve removed his fingers. Steve reached for the bedside table again, taking the strip of condoms out, but Bucky stopped him.

"Buck?"

"I want you," Bucky said seriously, then swallowed. "Just you."

Steve frowned for a second, but then realisation dawned on his face and his eyes went wide, the pupils almost swallowing up the blue. "Really? You'd let me?"

"We've been meaning to do it for a while," Bucky shrugged, pretending he didn't notice his face slowly turning red. "The only reason we haven't is because of the mess. But... I want you to. I want your come inside me."

"Shit Bucky, you can't just _say_ stuff like that," Steve swore, and leaned down to kiss him hard. Bucky arched up into it, grabbing Steve by the hip and pulling him to lie back over his body, the condoms falling out of Steve's hand to the floor with a flutter. When he pulled away, Steve's eyes were lidded, his lips bright red and swollen, and Bucky couldn't help the smug swell of pride at the knowledge that _he_ was the one to do that.

At the first touch of Steve's bare cock to his entrance, Bucky couldn't help but tense up, his arm involuntarily tightening around Steve's shoulders. Steve paused, one hand around his cock, to look up at Bucky with concern.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Bucky breathed. "Yeah, I'm good. Kiss me?"

Steve leaned up and brushed a soft kiss across Bucky's lips, and Bucky melted back into his embrace. The pressure at his hole increased, and it was almost too much at one point, but then the head slipped in and Bucky couldn't stop the hoarse cry that fell from his lips. Steve's arms were tense where he held himself up, his skin covered in sweat and his chest heaving as he slowly, ever so slowly, pressed in, and it lit a fire in Bucky's body that he was so affected, that Bucky was doing this to him. When Steve was fully seated, his hips brushing against Bucky's ass, he collapsed on top of Bucky, breathing heavily into Bucky's neck. Bucky licked a long stripe from Steve's tattoo to his jaw and revelled at the salty taste of sweat and skin.

"You alright, _moya dorogaya_?" Bucky murmured, stroking Steve's damp hair back out of his face.

"'S just a lot," Steve wheezed. "Gimme a minute."

Bucky hummed and kissed Steve's temple, the burn that always accompanied Steve's first push inside him fading away until he was trying not to squirm. Steve was _big_ , all over, and it was no wonder that his cock always pressed against all the best places inside Bucky's body.

"Stevie," he finally whined. "Stevie, c'mon, you're killin' me here, babe."

"If I move I might come in under a minute, darlin'." Steve's voice was breathless, but it made Bucky moan loudly, his head tipping back.

"I don't care if you blow your load as soon as you start moving, I just... Fuck, I need you."

"Okay, sweetheart, okay," Steve murmured soothingly, shifting Bucky's thighs to wrap around his hips. "Just hang on, okay?"

At the first movement of Steve's hips, slowly pulling out halfway before pushing back in just as slowly, Bucky arched off the bed and raked his fingernails down Steve's back with a cry. Steve was so much hotter inside, so much rougher, without the smoothness and silicone-feeling that the condom always brought. Shit, neither of them were going to last long at this rate.

"Faster," Bucky found himself begging. "Steve, _moya lyubov' moye vse_ , please. Please, faster."

Steve whined high in his throat and buried his face in Bucky's hair, his hips snapping forward with enough force that the bed had started rocking. Bucky mouthed at Steve's neck, the salty taste of sweat mixing in with Steve's scent, and bit down on his tattoo. Steve shuddered in his embrace and cried out, his hips stilling, and Bucky felt a flood of heat deep inside him as Steve came, as he was filled up, and he came with a sob as Steve's twitching cock filled him up.

As he came down, Steve pressed kisses to his face, his mouth, his neck, his lips working almost frantically to cover Bucky's skin with his love.

"I love you so much," Steve whispered, his eyes so wide and blue and beautiful, and Bucky curled his arm around Steve's shoulders to pull him in and kiss him as thoroughly as he could. At some point, Steve's softened cock slipped out of him, making Bucky wince in pain and feel the come start leaking out of his hole.

"You made a bit of a mess," Bucky murmured against Steve's lips and was completely unprepared for the feeling of Steve's fingers at his hole.

"If you hadn't tired me out so much I'd be so hard right now," Steve murmured back, and Bucky giggled, relaxing as Steve's fingers rubbed gently over his swollen hole. "You want a shower? We're pretty gross."

Bucky groaned but reluctantly heaved himself out of bed, pulling Steve with him into the bathroom. "We'll regret it if we don't. I'll order dinner after; you change the sheets."

"Why do I have to change the sheets?" Steve asked, plastering himself to Bucky's back like an especially affectionate barnacle.

"Because you're the one in this relationship with two arms," Bucky reminded him, shooing him into the shower stall and turning on the tap. 

Steve hummed and pulled Bucky in with him, his hands immediately going to cup Bucky's ass. 

"You're incorrigible," Bucky accused, poking at Steve's chest. Steve grinned brightly, and it was like the sun shone out of him.

"You love me."

Bucky rolled his eyes and rested his head on Steve's shoulder, sighing happily when Steve started using those big hands to work out the knots in his back.

"Thank you for that," Bucky finally said after a couple of minutes. "I've been so stressed, with school and my ma and everything that's going on, so... thank you."

"Of course, baby," Steve murmured, kissing the top of Bucky's head. "I'd do anything for you. You know that."

Bucky raised his head and slotted his lips against Steve's, sighing contentedly at the soft kiss. "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Bozhe moy - oh my god  
> moya dorogaya - my darling  
> moya lyubov' moye vse - my love, my everything
> 
> As usual, all my translations come from Google Translate and there are almost definitely going to be errors. I know nothing about the Russian language, I only speak English and a bit of Spanish and German.


	5. Oh No Everything's Gone To Shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I'm so sorry that it's been literally five months since I've updated, but if you check my works you'll realise that, in fact, it was because I was procrastinating and instead of writing this, I wrote three different fics adding up to 40,000 words so you're welcome
> 
> So here's this chapter (which I have been planning since the very start so I'm excited to finally post it) that I have spent far too much time on.

Bucky was studying in the campus library when Steve called. Which was strange, since Steve was meant to be at work until five. It was also strange that Bucky had so much work to do over the winter break, but he'd pretty much resigned himself to spending the majority of his time writing essays and research projects on the history of the paintbrush.

"What did you do?" is the first thing he asked when he picked up the phone.

"What makes you think I did something?" Steve asked, sounding way too casual to be innocent. Bucky narrowed his eyes and closed the book in front of him. From opposite him, Daniel glanced up and raised an eyebrow.

"Steve. What did you do?" Bucky asked again. Daniel chuckled and looked back down at his book. "Why aren't you at work?"

"Funny story..."

"Did you get fired?"

"No! It's more like - well, the thing is..."

"Spit it out, Rogers, you're making me nervous," Bucky snapped. 

"...So you know how the shelter can't look after animals under a certain age and have to foster them out?"

Bucky paused. "You didn't."

Steve, on the other side of the line, was silent.

"Steve, I swear to god, what is it?"

"A puppy. I think she's part pitbull."

"So you're planning to look after a pitbull puppy, that needs constant care and attention, as well as attend class and work," Bucky stated flatly. Daniel's eyes widened and he started giggling incessantly. Bucky kicked him under the table.

"Well, I'm on paid leave from work. I'm doing them a favour."

"And what about class?"

"...I was hoping you could come stay with me?"

Bucky blinked. "What?"

"You don't have to," Steve quickly said, sounding a little flustered. "But we never have class at the same time, and two people are better than one, and, uh... I've been kinda waiting for an opportunity to ask you."

"Ask me what?"

"To move in with me."

Bucky paused. "I'm coming over. We are not having this conversation over the phone."

He hung up and stuffed his phone back into his pocket, pulling on his jacket and packing away his laptop.

"Trouble in paradise?" Daniel asked dryly.

"Steve is fostering a pitbull pup, and just asked me to move in with him," Bucky grumbled. "I hate him."

"Mhmm," Daniel rolled his eyes and went back to his work. Bucky swore under his breath again and slung his messenger bag on, stalking out of the library. 

Considering it was so close to Christmas, the weather was atrocious. Sludge was all over the sidewalk, and as soon as Bucky started walking towards the subway sleet started coming down, drenching him in the space of ten minutes. By the time he got to Steve's apartment he was freezing, his fingers were blue, and he was completely soaked. Bucky didn't even bother trying to get his keys out of his pocket, and just banged on the door. Steve opened the door slowly, wincing every time it creaked. Bucky raised an eyebrow at him.

"...Steve, the hell are you doing?"

"I've been trying to get her to go to sleep for an _hour_ ," he hissed. "I'm not waking her up."

Bucky rolled his eyes and stepped past Steve into the apartment, pulling off his soaking jacket on the way. "I'm having a shower, then we're talking."

"I'll get you some clothes," Steve said, and kissed Bucky's cheek on his way past. Bucky looked around the apartment, noting the broken plate on the kitchen floor, and made his way towards the bathroom. Steve, as per usual, had left his dirty clothes strewn across the bathroom floor, and Bucky kicked them all into one corner. Steve should really invest in a hamper.

Bucky ended up staying in the shower for much longer than he'd anticipated, waiting for the feeling to come back to his fingers and toes. He would have stayed in there longer, just to avoid the mess that would come with talking to Steve, but he reluctantly turned off the water after fifteen minutes. Steve, true to his word, had slipped in some time when Bucky wasn't paying attention and had left a bundle of clothes on the basin. Bucky got changed quickly, tied his hair up in a quick ponytail, and walked back out.

And promptly stopped when he saw that Steve was sitting in the middle of the floor, a small wriggling body in his lap

"She woke up," Steve said as an explanation. Bucky blinked a couple of times, then sighed and walked over to sit down next to Steve. Almost immediately, the puppy turned its tiny head to look at him, and Steve grabbed it and plopped it in Bucky's lap.

"How old is it?" Bucky asked, feeling his nervousness and annoyance fade away. The puppy snuggled up, letting out a tiny yawn.

"It's a she. And two weeks," Steve murmured. "She opened her eyes just a couple of days ago, apparently."

As if to demonstrate, the puppy looked up at Bucky, blinking her big brown eyes at him. Bucky tried very hard not to melt. 

"You decided on a name yet?" Bucky asked, reaching out to give the pup a little scratch behind the ears, making her wiggle happily.

"Baby," Steve said proudly. Bucky looked up at him, an eyebrow raised.

"Seriously?"

"It fits!"

"And you want me to stay here to help out with her?"

"Not just to help out with her," Steve mumbled. Bucky looked up, but Steve was studiously avoiding his gaze. 

"You may have mentioned something about that," Bucky drawled, narrowing his eyes. Steve curled a little further into himself. "Were you planning on asking me to move in with you over the phone?"

"It just slipped out!" Steve said defensively. "I've wanted to ask you for a while, and I had a whole evening planned out, but then these guys needed my help and I wasn't thinking."

"So you did mean it?" Bucky asked, his heart in his throat. "You want me to move in with you?"

"God, Buck, I can't think of anything I'd want more."

Carefully, Bucky picked up the puppy in his lap and put her on the floor, watching as she toddled off to a dog bed that was hilariously big for her. Then he threw himself into Steve's lap and kissed him hard. Steve gave a little yelp and fell backwards, but he was laughing as he gathered Bucky into his arms.

"I still cannot _believe_ you asked me over the phone," Bucky muttered when they'd both come up for air. "What's next, Rogers; you propose with a Ring Pop?"

"I'll have you know I've been saving a Ring Pop since I was five years old to give to my future spouse," Steve said seriously, tapping Bucky's nose. "You should be honoured."

"You're so gross," Bucky groaned, leaning his head on Steve's shoulder and pretending the thought of marriage didn't send butterflies into his stomach. 

"Yep," Steve agreed and kissed the top of Bucky's head. "So you never actually answered, Buck."

"What?"

"You wanna move in with me?"

Bucky raised his head to glare at his grinning boyfriend. "Wow, I fucking wonder, Steve. I want to, hell yeah. But I gotta talk to Sam."

"I know. You wanna go over now, or stay here for a bit?"

"I'll stay for a bit." Bucky leaned up to peck Steve's chin. "You can educate me on how to look after this little asshole."

"Excuse me, Barnes," Steve gasped, clutching at his non-existent pearls. "That's our daughter you're talking about!" The puppy, from her spot on the bed, yapped in agreement, and Bucky couldn't help the giggle that burst from his lips.

"Our daughter, huh? Did you knock me up, Stevie?" he teased.

"You were so fat," Steve replied gravely, sending Bucky into another fit of cackles.

\------

Bucky didn't end up getting back to his and Sam's dorm until almost nine. Sam was still up, sprawled across the couch watching something on his computer. When he looked up, his eyes were red. 

"You okay?"

"Peachy," Sam muttered. "Why're you back so late? I thought you and Daniel were studying this afternoon."

"We were." Bucky lifted Sam's legs off the couch and plopped down. "Steve texted. I spent the rest of the time with him."

"Hmm," Sam hummed, putting his feet in Bucky's lap.

"He wants me to move in with him," Bucky blurted out. Sam went still, and Bucky reached down to rub at the arch of his friend's foot soothingly. 

"What did you say?" Sam asked warily.

"I told him I'd talk to you."

"Shit, Buck," Sam sighed, leaning his head back against the armrest. "You know I'd never stop you two from moving in. It's pretty fucking awesome, actually. But..."

"But you won't be able to pay the mortgage without a roommate," Bucky finished for him wearily. "I know. And I feel guilty as hell for wanting to move out so much."

"Hey, I know it's not about me." Sam nudged Bucky's stomach with his foot.

"I could always keep paying my side of the rent," Bucky offered. "Steve owns his place, and his dad paid off all the debt."

"I couldn't ask you to do that," Sam said gently. 

"None of our friends can take my place," Bucky reminded him. "And I know how you feel about bunking with people you don't know."

"But what about your ma?" Sam protested. "Weren't you gonna use your spare money to pay for her treatment?"

"How about this," Bucky changed course, "I won't move in with Steve until T'Challa gets back from Wakanda, and he can move in here."

Sam went very still. "That's not going to happen."

Bucky frowned. "What do you mean? Does he already have housing planned?"

"No." Sam took a deep breath. "He called earlier. He's not coming back."

It took Bucky a couple of seconds to process that. "He _what_?"

"He told me that he wouldn't be coming home for another year at least." Sam closed his eyes. "Bucky, what if I'm not enough for him anymore?"

"Sammy, don't do this to yourself," Bucky said viciously. "T'Challa's out of his mind if he thinks he's too good for you."

"He's the prince of a small country, Buck," Sam said resignedly. "He could have anyone he wanted. Why would he go for a guy who doesn't even live in the same time zone?"

Bucky took a deep breath, trying to reel in his anger.

"What did you say?" Bucky asked.

"Told him that if he wanted to dump me, he should just say it outright," Sam mumbled. "I hung up before he could answer."

"Has he called back?"

"I got no clue," Sam snorted. "I turned my phone off."

Bucky sighed and patted Sam's feet. "Been there. You wanna get takeout and watch Golden Girls?"

"You're not gonna give me a lecture?" Sam asked, giving Bucky the side-eye. 

"It'd be pretty hypocritical if I did," Bucky shrugged. "Besides, I still wanna keep paying my side of the rent even when I move out, so I wanna keep you all buttered up."

Sam let his head fall back. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

"No."

"And it'd make you feel better if I let you pay half the rent?"

"Yes."

"Just so you know, I will only accept this because it will make you happy. And you'll only pay a third of the rent."

"Cross my heart," Bucky said, unable to keep the grin off his face. "And I'll be back here pretty much every second day, so it'll be like my honourable home."

"Fine," Sam sighed. "You can pay a third of the rent. Only a third, Barnes."

"Yes, sir."

"Now get your lazy ass up and order us some pizza."

\------

On Christmas Eve, Bucky and Sam spent the day packing Bucky's things. Natasha and Clint had come back to the city for the break, and after helping with the move, they were all going out to catch up, with the exception of Steve, who had to stay home and look after Baby.

"Are you sure you don't wanna come?" Bucky had asked a few days before, snuggled into the crook of Steve's arm in a post-sex haze. "The pup will be fine for a few hours by herself."

"I don't wanna leave her alone for that long," Steve murmured. "Clint and Nat'll be in town for the whole break, right? We'll have more chances to catch up before they go back to SHIELD."

So after they'd loaded all of Bucky's things into Natasha's car (for the second time in six months), dropped them off at Steve's place (with a lot of cooing over Baby in between) and gotten changed, Natasha drove them to a moderately shady-looking club. The bouncer, a huge tattooed guy with bright green hair, apparently knew Natasha, as he didn't even ask for their ID's and instead just wordlessly let them in. Sam gave Bucky a wide eyed look as they passed the bouncer, mouthing _what the fuck_ as soon as they were through the door. 

"Are you _sure_ you're not part of the mafia?" Clint blurted out, and Natasha sighed.

"I'm not getting in this discussion with you again."

"You never answer, though!" Sam whined, and the ghost of a smile flittered across Natasha's lips. Predictably, she didn't answer.

The club was as shady-looking on the inside as it was on the outside. The only lighting came from fluorescents above that looked one short circuit away from dying, and Bucky's shoes stuck to the floor with every step. 

"Where do you find these places, Nat?" Bucky asked absently, glancing around. 

"Mainly Google," she replied casually, leading them to an empty booth. "It's amazing what you can find with some changes to your privacy settings. Also, I've heard about this place from other SHIELD recruits who live in NYC."

"Huh," Clint said, sitting down in the booth and wincing slightly. "I've never been told anything like that."

"It's the tits, babe."

"What about the tits?" Sam asked curiously, and Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Straight men will tell you anything if you wear something tight and pout at them."

"I resent that," Clint complained.

"When have you ever said no to me when I show you my tits?" Natasha teased. Clint frowned, opened his mouth to rebuff her, then promptly closed it again. Sam snickered at Natasha's smug expression.

"You gonna use your legendary breasts to get us free drinks?" Bucky asked dryly. Natasha flicked his forehead, but she got up and waded into the crowd, towards the bar. Clint turned away from where he was watching her leave, and leaned forward with a grin on his face.

"So, catch me up. What's been going on with you guys?" He turns to Sam, his grin widening. "How's it going with lover boy?"

Bucky winced, feeling Sam shift uneasily beside him. 

"Oh no, I know that look." Clint leaned further forward. "Did you guys break up?"

"No," Sam said quickly. "No, it's just... We had a fight. Just a couple of days ago."

"That's not too bad," Clint said diplomatically. "What was the fight about?"

"He told me he's not coming back for another year," Sam muttered.

"Okay, that's bad." Bucky snorted, and Clint had the sense to look abashed. "Sorry. Are you gonna break up with him?"

"I don't know," Sam sighed. "I thought this long-distance thing would be fine for just a year, but if he's not even gonna give me a date as to when he'll come back... I can't do this forever."

Clint hummed in sympathy, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by the reappearance of Natasha, who held a tray of beers. 

"What'd I miss?" she asked, putting the tray on the table and sliding into the booth.

"T'Challa extended his stay in Wakanda and Sam doesn't know if he can keep doing long-distance," Clint replied automatically, and Natasha winced.

"That... Jeez, that _sucks_." Sam snorted and reached for a shot.

"I know. Let's not talk about it again, hmm?"

Natasha leaned across the table, grinning. "Does anyone wanna hear about the time in training when I kicked a guy in the balls?"

The next hour and a half were spent catching up, going through the tray of beers and halfway through another, when Bucky was suddenly drawn from the conversation by his phone buzzing in his pocket. He gave Sam, who was in the middle of a story about one of his professors, a quick apologetic look. "It's Steve."

"Why's he calling?" Clint asked curiously. "Did he forget something?"

Bucky shrugged, turning away from his friends slightly as he swiped to answer. "Hey Stevie, what's up?"

There was silence for a couple of seconds, before Bucky heard a ragged breath. "Buck?"

Bucky tensed up, and Sam glanced over at him curiously. "Steve? Babe, what's wrong?" Clint and Natasha looked up from their conversation to not-so-subtly listen in, twin expressions of concern on their faces.

"Bucky, can you come home?" Steve asked shakily. He sounded like he'd been crying. "I-I know you haven't been out long, but -"

"I'm leaving now, baby," Bucky interrupted, making to get out of his seat when Natasha gripped his arm.

"I'll drive."

"Nat, you should stay here," Bucky started protesting, but she cut him off with a glare.

"It'll take longer if you grab an Uber or take the subway. Even if I didn't take you, I wouldn't be able to relax knowing something was wrong."

"After you drop him off, meet Clint and me at my place," Sam chimed in, and Bucky shot him a grateful look before turning his attention back to the phone.

"Did you hear that, Stevie? Nat's taking me home, we'll be there in about fifteen minutes." From the other end, Bucky heard another choked breath, like Steve was holding in a sob. 

"Okay. I'll see you then." Bucky was about to say something else, but Steve had already hung up.

"We gotta go," Bucky mumbled, and sent another apologetic look to Sam and Clint as he started walking towards the door, Natasha hot on his heels. They pushed through the people milling around the entrance of the club and stepped out into the street. He let Natasha take the lead back to the car, barely able to remember where they'd parked it just a couple of hours earlier.

Because of the relatively late hour, there thankfully wasn't as much traffic as there usually was during the day, but it still took far too long to drive back to Steve's apartment complex. 

"I'll call you tomorrow," Bucky said, leaning over and giving Natasha a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for the ride, _Natashenka_."

"Take care, _khon_ ," Natasha said seriously, resting a small, manicured hand on Bucky's cheek. "Look after that big oaf of yours." Bucky gave her a weak smile and slid out of the car, closing the door quietly behind him.

It really didn't take long for Bucky to get to Steve's apartment, pulling his spare key out of his pocket and opening the door as quickly as possible. As soon as he got inside and closed the door behind him, Bucky realised something wasn't right. Steve's phone lay abandoned on the coffee table, and neither Steve nor Baby were anywhere in sight. "Stevie?" 

There was no response, and Bucky hurried into the bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the lump on the bed. Steve was curled up on his side of the bed, Baby burrowed in close. She looked up when Bucky entered the room, but quickly put her head back down when she saw he wasn't a threat. Steve didn't look up, and Bucky's heart broke when he noticed the faint shaking, and combined with Steve's wide-eyes thousand-yard stare, Bucky had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

Bucky quickly shimmied out of his jeans and crawled into bed, curling up beside Steve, who didn't give any indication he knew that Bucky was there. 

"Stevie," Bucky crooned gently, cupping Steve's face with his hand. "Stevie, it's me. We're in our apartment in Brooklyn. I just got back from getting drinks with Nat, Clint and Sam. Come back to me, honey."

He kept stroking Steve's cheek, murmuring quietly to him, until Steve's eyes became less glazed and his tremors stopped. 

"Buck?" Steve mumbled. "When'd you get here? Why aren't you out with the others?"

"I only got back a few minutes ago," Bucky assured him. "And you called me, remember?"

Steve's eyes went misty, and he buried his face in Bucky's chest, suddenly enough that Bucky had to catch himself from falling back. Steve's arms around him were far too tight, but he was sobbing into Bucky's shirt, so the creaking of his ribs was the least of Bucky's worries.

"Hey, hey Stevie, it's okay," Bucky said, slightly alarmed as he wrapped his arm around Steve's shoulders. "Baby, what the hell happened?"

Steve sniffled a bit, rubbing his cheek on Bucky's shirt. "My dad." Bucky went cold, and Steve must have felt him stiffen up because he looked up. "Bucky... he's sending me away."

"Sending you away? What do you mean?" Bucky asked in bewilderment. "He can't send you anywhere; you're nineteen, he can't dictate what you do."

Steve's expression cracked. "I thought I was safe."

"Steve, what did he do?"

Steve took a deep breath. "He pulled some strings in the army. Turns out you don't need to get someone's consent to fight if their dad has enough sway."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear I am Australian, which means that I am slightly baffled at the fact that you have to be 21 to drink in America. This has culminated into 19 year-olds going to bars and drinking far too much, because 19 year-olds getting shitfaced is totally normal in my country.
> 
> Also I have been raised on the belief that the Army is a corrupt and disgusting system that drags able-bodied young people away from their jobs and gives them mental health issues, so that kinda shows too. As to why I think this, I hate the government and my mum's family are farmers.
> 
> Also can you tell I never write cliffhangers 
> 
> Khon - hon


	6. How To Get Your Mind Off Your Controlling Father: A Guide by Bucky Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually surprised that I got this in so close to the last chapter. Yeah, it's been two months, but in those two months I wrote 77,000 words for Kinktober (pls read them I'm very proud of them), had exams, then got a stomach bug that I only really recovered from yesterday (I'm still a bit fuzzy, so there might be typos in this that my lord and saviour Grammarly didn't find). I wrote this in about three hours, and I'm not entirely sure when the next chapter will be out. I'm currently working on my fic It's Dark In The Valley, and I'll hopefully get a chapter that's around 20k out by the end of January (hopefully). 
> 
> Also: comfort sex

It took a few seconds for that to sink in.

"He _drafted_ you?" Bucky choked out. "How is that even legal?" Steve let out a humourless chuckle, and when Bucky cupped his face and raised his chin, his smile was gaunt.

"Didn't you know? Anything's possible if you're privileged enough," he recited dully. "And dad's a war hero. Of course the damned military would do something like this for him - it's hardly the most illegal thing they've ever done."

He'd stopped shivering by then, and instead was like a dead weight in Bucky's arms, his muscles tense and head buried in Bucky's neck. Bucky took a deep breath, and it sounded ragged.

"Did he come here?" Bucky asked, and his voice shook without his permission. Steve let out a long breath.

"No. He called, then sent the email with all the information. Asshole didn't even have the guts to ruin my life in person. Said my orders'll come in the mail sometime in the next month." At this, Steve sobbed, a ragged, broken sound that lashed through Bucky's chest. "I don't wanna go, Buck."

Bucky blinked away his own tears and pressed a kiss to Steve's forehead, wrapping his arm tighter around Steve's shoulders. On Steve's other side, Baby snuggled a bit closer and licked the back of Steve's neck, like she was trying to comfort him, and Bucky felt a whole new wave of appreciation for the pup. 

"And there's nothing we can do?" Bucky asked, his voice cracking, and Steve snorted.

"Even if there was, dad would've already found a way to make them not an option," he whispered. Bucky swallowed around the tightness in his throat and nodded, reaching up to cradle Steve's head in his hand. "There's no point."

Bucky could only lie there, face buried in Steve's hair and arm wrapped around Steve's shoulders as the love of his life sobbed into his shoulder. He couldn't even offer words of comfort - what could he say? Steve had finally thought he was rid of Joseph Rogers, and to have everything he'd built here thrown back in his face? To realise that he'd never actually been free from his father's rule? There was nothing Bucky could have said or done to make the situation better, so instead, he just held Steve as he broke down. 

His father had been in the army, and Bucky knew the effects that war had on people. He'd heard stories about George Barnes from before - stories about a kind-hearted, adventurous man who'd been adored by all, and who'd left for war with a pregnant wife and a toddler anxiously awaiting his return. He faintly remembered his father's laugh - not a cruel laugh, like the ones he let out after, but a loving one - bright and loud and able to bring smiles to anyone who heard it, and he remembered his hand being held by a much larger, more calloused one, his father's guiding voice in his ear. It wasn't something Bucky usually thought about, the way that combat had turned his father into a violent alcoholic, but the army was about to take someone else Bucky loved, and he couldn't handle it.

What if they sent Steve into active combat? It wouldn't be so bad if Steve stayed stateside, doing nothing but train and prepare, and then be sent home without ever seeing combat, but Bucky wasn't naïve enough to believe that would happen. Steve, with his big heart and gentle hands and soft smile, being placed in a battle? His Stevie, who couldn't cook anything that wasn't pasta and who bumped into doorways more often than he got through them without issue, getting a rifle placed in his hands and ordered to shoot someone? Bucky couldn't stand it.

And what about when Steve got back? Would he still be the sweet, bumbling man that Bucky fell in love with, or would he turn out just like Bucky's father? The thought terrified Bucky, and as soon as it came into his mind he forced it right back out, holding Steve tighter in his arms and willing himself not to cry.

No matter what, one thing was clear.

Steve would be leaving. And there was nothing that Bucky could do about it.

\------

They spent most of Christmas day in bed, only getting up for the bathroom or to take care of Baby. As she was only a couple of weeks old, she had to be fed every couple of hours, and then she had to have her bowels stimulated so she knew how to go to the toilet. Steve was usually the one to do these things, as he had the most experience, but Bucky took over that day, fumbling his way through a bottle feeding and rubbing Baby's belly until she did her business. It was pretty gross, and Bucky was looking forward to when she was big enough to be able to go to the toilet on her own. 

Steve barely moved the whole day, curled up on his side in their bed with a blank look on his face. Bucky spent most of his time beside him, rubbing Steve's back or talking quietly to him, knowing he'd never get a response. Steve's behaviour made something foul curl in Bucky's gut - it reminded him a bit too much of Winnifred, and although he knew that Steve was just in shock, that it would eventually pass, it still sent trickles of cold, dark fear trickling down his spine at the thought.

At six that evening Bucky sat up from his position wrapped around Steve, leaning over to cup Steve's face in his hands.

"Stevie, can you look at me?" Bucky asked gently. Steve shifted just a bit, and Bucky waited patiently until he'd rolled over to face Bucky, his eyes open. "I'm gonna take Baby out for her feeding, then I'm gonna make something for dinner. Is there anything you want?"

Steve was silent, and Bucky was about to give up and get out of bed when Steve whispered, "Stir fry?"

It was the first words he'd spoken all day, and Bucky couldn't help but smile as he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to Steve's lips. "Sure thing, sweetheart."

He pulled away, preparing to get out of bed, but Steve's arms came out from under the duvet and wrapped around him, pulling him in as Steve buried his face in Bucky's neck.

"Thank you," Steve whispered, and Bucky felt tears on his neck. "I love you so much."

Bucky turned his head just enough to kiss Steve's temple, and when Steve finally let him go, he pulled Bucky in for a soft, open-mouthed kiss. Bucky sighed into the kiss, curling his fingers into Steve's hair and letting his jaw go lax, Steve's tongue slipping between his lips to lick into his mouth. When they separated, Bucky's lips were tingling and Steve had a small smile on his face.

"Come out when you're ready," Bucky murmured, and, unable to stop himself, leaned in to kiss Steve's cheek one more time. 

Slipping out of bed, Bucky scooped up Baby from her bed and carried her out into the kitchen, setting her down on the tiled floor as he started getting her formula ready. She was picky for a puppy, and her milk had to be a very specific temperature, otherwise, she wouldn't eat it. Through much trial and error, they'd found out that the milk formula was only going to be drank if it had gone into the microwave for 17 seconds, and when he'd taken it out he sat on the floor and held the bottle out. Baby, who had previously still been half-asleep, immediately brightened up and bounded over on her oversized paws. She was still learning how to walk, so she stumbled more than once in the four feet she journeyed, but when she got to Bucky she flopped onto her stomach and chomped down on the teat. She still wasn't that good at eating without making a mess, and Bucky had to laugh as she furiously worked at the bottle, over half of what came out spilling onto the floor. There was a reason they did this on the tiles.

By the time she was finished, Bucky went through the motions of stimulating her bowels - gross, but necessary, and he made sure to praise her when she managed to get some out. Baby wagged her tail a bit, then lay back down on her belly to watch Bucky clean up her mess, waiting to be carried back to bed. 

"You're so spoiled," Bucky said fondly, picking the puppy up and walking the short distance to her bed in the main room. "Can't even walk across a room - nope, you gotta be carried. You're just a little princess, aren't you, Baby?"

Baby yipped in agreement, and as soon as Bucky placed her down in bed she almost collapsed, exhausted from her gruelling tasks.

She really was a gorgeous dog, Bucky thought, sitting back just to watch her. She was a soft grey, with a white tummy and white splotches on three of her legs that looked a lot like socks. She still looked a lot like a potato, but it was obvious she was going to be a beautiful dog when she was older. After watching her for a couple of minutes, Bucky managed to drag himself away and into the kitchen so he could start on dinner.

About half an hour later when Bucky was almost finished, he heard the bedroom door open, and he turned around to see Steve shuffle out blearily. Instead of sitting down at the table or bench, Steve plastered himself to Bucky's back and rested his head on Bucky's shoulder, absently pressing a kiss to Bucky's neck.

"Hey," Bucky said softly, leaning back into Steve just enough to let him feel it. "How're you doing?"

"Better," Steve mumbled, his voice muffled by Bucky's skin. "Feels like it's temporary, though."

Bucky hummed sympathetically, turning off the stove so he could turn in Steve's arms to face him. "You know I'm not blaming you for feeling like this, right? Take as much time as you need."

Steve smiled shakily down at him, his eyes suspiciously wet. "But I don't wanna waste my time with you. I... I don't know when I'll be sent away, and I don't know how long it'll be for. And - and even if you _do_ wanna stick around, I dunno what I'll be like when I come out the other side, and-"

"Wait," Bucky interrupts, and Steve shuts his mouth with a click. "What do you mean, _even if I do stick around_?"

Steve frowned, looking confused. "Buck, I'm being sent away - I'll go through training, then I'll have a tour, and all that would probably take two years altogether. And yeah, I'll have time off when I can visit, but - Buck, do you really want to be in a relationship with a guy who'll see you in person for just a couple weeks a year?"

"You think I'd break up with you?" Bucky asked, and he couldn't help the way his voice quivered. "Even after all we've been through, you really think I'd do that to you?"

Steve cupped Bucky's face in his hands, a devastated look on his face. "Sweetheart, don't you see? You deserve so much more than that. You deserve someone who's around all the time, someone who can give you what you need, who can be there when you need him. I won't be able to do that - not when I'm gone."

"I don't _want_ anyone else," Bucky whispered, and his eyes started burning with the threat of tears. Furiously, he pushed it back and gripped Steve's shirt in his hands. "I don't give a shit if I'll only see you in person a few times over the next few years. Unless I've dreamt up the whole thing, Skype is a thing. And you can call me whenever you want - fuck time zones, Stevie, even if it's the middle of the night I'm gonna pick up the phone for you. I _love_ you, asshole, so don't you fucking _dare_ try to break up with me, because _we will get through this_. Do you hear me, Steven Grant Rogers?"

Steve was crying, fat tears rolling down his face as he held Bucky tight enough to hurt, and Bucky reached up to brush those tears away. Wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulders, Bucky raised himself onto his toes to rest their foreheads together, and Steve's eyes flutter closed as he let out a shaky sigh.

"I'm not leaving you, Stevie," Bucky whispered, cradling Steve's head in his hand. "And I won't let you leave me - not for something like this."

Steve let out a quiet sob, burying his face in Bucky's neck as he trembled in his arms, and Bucky let him, rocking them gently side to side and not commenting on the bruising grip Steve had on his waist. It took a long time for Steve's quivering to subside and for his tears to dry, and when it did he kissed Bucky softly and released him, turning to grab bowls from the cupboard. 

They ate dinner sitting on the couch, sides pressed together, and after they'd rinsed their bowls and resumed their places on the couch Steve picked Bucky up and settled him into his lap, pulling him down for a kiss. Bucky cupped Steve's cheek in his hand and closed his eyes, melting into the kiss and sighing when Steve's hands slid up his shirt. Steve pulled away, just enough to frame Bucky's face in his hands and murmur, "I want you."

"You have me," Bucky whispered, wrapping his hand around one of Steve's wrists. "You'll always have me. I'll never let you go - I promise."

Steve's eyes were shiny, and he leaned forward to take Bucky's bottom lip in his mouth, his hands slowly rucking up Bucky's shirt. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull Bucky's shirt up over his head and then he was right back into it, licking down Bucky's jawline and neck and probably leaving bruises. Bucky loosely wrapped his arm around Steve's neck and leaned back, letting Steve's mouth move over his chest to suck on a nipple. They were both hard in their pants already, and the minuscule movements of Steve's hips gave such sweet friction to Bucky's cock that he was having a hard time not grinding down. When Steve moved to rub Bucky's cock through his sweats, Bucky reached out to stop him.

"Not yet," he said softly, then guided Steve's hand back to his hip. "We have time. Let me make you feel good."

Steve swallowed, his eyes dark. "Here?"

Bucky shook his head and slid off Steve's lap, holding out a hand that Steve gladly took. Bucky led him through the apartment and back into their room, but when Steve tried to lie them down on the bed, he pulled away.

"Sit on the edge of the bed?"

Steve did as he was told, his erection tenting his pants as he reached out for Bucky. "C'mere, doll. Lemme touch you."

Instead of responding, Bucky slid his sweats down his legs, stepping out of them as they pooled around his feet, and he watched as Steve's cock twitched within his pants. Walking across the room, Bucky stepped between Steve's spread legs and reached for the hem of his shirt, tugging it up. Steve got the hint and raised his arms, letting Bucky peel off the shirt and reveal all of that perfect, golden skin.

"This is about you," Bucky murmured, brushing his lips across Steve's earlobe just to see him shiver. "I wanna get you outta your mind. I'm gonna show you just how much I love you, then I'm gonna spread you out on the bed and ride you slowly until you come. You can touch me, but you gotta remember I'm in charge. How's that sound?"

"It sounds like you're incredible," Steve whispered, and guided Bucky's head forward until their lips brushed. Bucky cupped Steve's jaw, licking into his mouth slowly, showing him just how much he was loved. Steve let out a soft whine, and Bucky pulled away with one last brush of their lips. "I love you."

Bucky can't help but smile at that. "I love you too."

Using Steve's leg to hold himself up, Bucky leaned down to brush his lips across Steve's Adam's apple, and at the shiver he got, he did it again. Steve's hands came around to gently hold Bucky's hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the skin and causing Bucky's cock to twitch. Not forgetting his mission, Bucky slowly trailed kisses down Steve's neck, leaving bruises wherever his lips went, his hand braced on Steve's thigh. 

Once Bucky got halfway down Steve's chest he dropped to his knees, and his hand slid up Steve's side and rested on the side of his ribs. Bucky leaned forward to press his forehead against Steve's chest, closing his eyes and rubbing his face slightly against the skin. Steve had a smattering of chest hair, and it tickled Bucky's lips when he sucked a bruise into the skin of Steve's pec. Steve's hands had moved up from Bucky's hips to rest on the base of his neck, a comforting weight that warmed Bucky up from the inside out, and those hands involuntarily tightened when Bucky attached his mouth to a nipple. It pebbled in his mouth, and when he let it go it tightened further under his gaze, pink and spit-slick. 

"Buck," Steve sighed, a hand cupping Bucky's cheek. Bucky leaned forward again to take the nipple back into his mouth, listening to Steve's breath hitch, and soon he's kissing his way across to give the same treatment to Steve's other nipple, which had already hardened. Sliding his hand down slowly, Bucky started rubbing against the bulge in Steve's sweatpants, unable to stop from smiling when Steve moaned softly. Stopping to catch his breath, Bucky sat back on his heels and let his gaze rove over Steve's body. He was in nothing but those sweatpants, his cock easily visible through the thin fabric and a wet patch over the top. There were hickeys all across his chest, collar and neck, standing out stark against that golden skin, and his nipples were hard and pink and still glistening with spit. His hands were still cupping Bucky's face, a barely-there tremble to them as he brushed his thumb across Bucky's cheeks, and his eyes were wide and dark, his lips bright red and bitten. 

"You're beautiful," Bucky whispered, and Steve let out a soft sound and leaned down, pressing their lips together. Steve's tongue immediately slid into his mouth, and Bucky melted with a soft moan as Steve took control, those big hands still holding his face in place. When they separated, Bucky's cock had started leaking against his stomach.

"Can I take these off?" Steve asked quietly, his hands going to the waistband of his pants, and Bucky nodded almost frantically.

"Please." 

Bucky shuffled back a bit to give Steve room, and soon enough the pants were being thrown to the side, and Steve was bare in front of him. Not wasting any time, Bucky pressed their bodies together for one quick, hard kiss before he slid down to take Steve's cock in his mouth, his eyes fluttering closed at the first taste. Steve whimpered, his hands going to Bucky's hair, and Bucky indulged himself for just a little bit, sucking the head and licking messily at the shaft. When Steve's breath started hitching Bucky reluctantly let his cock fall from his mouth, giving the head one last kiss before standing up.

Walking around the bed, Bucky reached into their drawer to take out their lube, throwing it onto the bedside table before crawling onto the bed, sprawling himself out on his back. Steve immediately crawled up the bed to settle between his legs, his hands sliding down to cup Bucky's ass. Bucky twined his arm around Steve's neck and pulled him down, licking messily into his mouth and getting a thrill out of the way Steve moaned.

"You have two choices," Bucky finally says when they part, his voice breathy. "I can suck you off and finger myself open, or you can finger me open while I jerk you off."

"Second option," Steve said immediately, and Bucky had to laugh - Steve's always loved getting him ready, and it showed in the way Steve reached for the lube, coating both his fingers and Bucky's hand before almost reverently sliding a finger into Bucky's body. Bucky tugged on Steve's hip, letting him settle fully on top, before reaching down to take Steve's spit-slick cock in his hand, jerking him off slowly and almost lazily, just the way Steve liked it. He trailed a finger up the shaft teasingly, just to watch Steve shudder and bite his lip, resting a bit more heavily on Bucky's body. Soon Steve was adding another finger and it was Bucky's turn to shiver, his head falling back and his mouth opening in a silent moan, gripping Steve's cock and running his thumb over the slit. Steve leaned down to press his mouth to Bucky's neck, brushing mindless kisses and licks to the already abused skin there. As he added a third finger, Steve sucked particularly hard, making Bucky cry out and arch his back, trying desperately to follow that feeling, and Steve's free arm wrapped around Bucky's back and pressed their bodies tight together, causing Bucky to lose his grip on Steve's cock.

"Stevie," Bucky gasped out, his hand immediately curling into Steve's hair. "Stevie, kiss me."

Steve let go of Bucky's neck to trail kisses up, across his jawline, and eventually, he captured Bucky's lips in a kiss, pressing Bucky back into the mattress as his fingers moved inside him. Soon enough Bucky felt his gut tightening, his legs tensing, and he immediately pushed Steve away, rolling them over so he could sit up properly, straddling Steve's hips. Steve had a bit of a dazed look on his face, and Bucky couldn't help himself from laughing. 

"I promised I'd ride you, didn't I?"

Steve licked his lips and nodded, adjusting himself on the pillows and reaching out to hold onto Bucky's hips. Reaching backwards, Bucky lined Steve's cock up to his entrance and bore down, sighing when the head slipped through with almost no resistance. It was still a stretch, as it always was - Steve wasn't exactly _lacking_ in that department - but Bucky had lots of practice, and soon enough he was settling in Steve's lap, his ass flush to Steve's hips. Steve was panting, his grip on Bucky's hips tight, and he was watching Bucky with absolute adoration in his eyes.

"You're so gorgeous," Steve whispered. One of his hands slid from Bucky's hip to his ass, and Bucky moaned quietly when a finger traced across the place they were joined. "So perfect, Buck."

Feeling a bit of a lump in his throat, Bucky leaned forward to brush their lips together, trying to ignore the way Steve's cock moved inside him. Steve reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair out of Bucky's face, his expression so soft, so fond that Bucky had to kiss him again.

"Hold onto me," Bucky said, straightening back up, and Steve obediently returned his hands to Bucky's hips. Placing his hand on Steve's chest for balance, Bucky slowly raised himself onto his knees until only the head of Steve's cock was inside him, then he slid back down in one fluid movement. Steve groaned, his head falling back, but his stabling grip on Bucky never once wavered. It didn't take long for Bucky to set up a slow, deep rhythm, taking Steve's cock to the hilt on every slide of his hips and grinding it deep every time, and it didn't take long until Steve was whimpering underneath him, his legs flexing and twitching under Bucky's body.

"Fill me up, Stevie," Bucky gasped out, quickening his pace a bit. "Come on, sweetheart, take what you need."

Steve's hips started pistoning up every time Bucky sunk down, and soon enough Steve was crying out and warmth was filling Bucky's insides, the cock inside him twitching with its release. Bucky milked him through it, and soon enough Steve was pulling Bucky off his cock and reversing their positions, pressing Bucky into the mattress and reaching down to slide three fingers back into his wet, loose hole. 

"Get yourself off for me," Steve whispered, then started attacking Bucky's neck with biting licks and kisses. Bucky wrapped his legs around Steve's waist and reached down to fist his cock, letting out a broken moan as he wrapped a hand around himself. He was so close already, and when Steve crooked his fingers just right Bucky was tipped over the edge with a sob, coming in spurts across both his and Steve's stomachs. Steve held him through it, only taking his fingers out when Bucky finally let go of his cock and laid back against the pillows, breathing heavily. 

"C'mere," Bucky murmured, reaching out. Steve collapsed on top of him, almost knocking the wind out, but as soon as he got his breath back Bucky was wrapping Steve up in his arm and legs. Steve cradled Bucky's face in his hands, pressing soft, reverent kisses to every part he could reach, and Bucky let his fingers run through Steve's sweat-dampened hair absently. Steve reached out to the bedside table and pulled out the wet wipes, quickly cleaning them up before throwing the wipes somewhere in the direction of the bin, and then he wriggled down until he could rest his head on Bucky's chest.

"Thank you," Steve mumbled into Bucky's chest, pressing a kiss to the skin under his mouth. Bucky hummed, curling Steve's hair around his fingers and tracing patterns in the soft skin of Steve's neck. 

"Told you, Stevie," he said sleepily, pressing a kiss to the top of Steve's head. "We'll get through this together. You and me."

Steve kissed Bucky's chest again, and it wasn't long before they were both drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay let's be real; these guys are 19. Of course they're gonna be having sex at any opportunity, especially if they wanna get their mind off something. Is it conventional? Not really. Is it healthy? No clue. Is it totally typical of 19 year-olds and also a really good way to get your mind off something? Absolutely

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how many chapters there will be, but I'm guessing at least ten? I dunno. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Translations:  
> Synochik - son  
> Bozhe moi - my god  
> Solnyshka - little sun


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